


Just A Nothing Boy

by Bennyhatter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blood and Gore, Dystopia, Enemies to Friends, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Imprisonment, Injury, Killing, M/M, Magic, Military, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pack Dynamics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shifters, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Supernatural Elements, Torture, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: No one knows how the Wolves came to be; if they came from a different world, or if they'd always been part of humanity. They lived among humans undetected, watching them grow and flourish while the earth beneath them died. Maybe that's what eventually sparked them to act, or maybe it was something else entirely, but when they did reveal themselves, everything went to hell.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Vindin/Genki
Comments: 118
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey I'm back with this Shiny New Thing.
> 
> Forgive my hectic tagging, I'm the Worst at it. Also the rating will probably go up later on, once things get, y'know, movin' and jammin'.
> 
> ANYWAY WELCOME TO THIS IDEA THAT HAS REFUSED TO LEAVE MY BRAIN-SPACE FOR WEEKS NOW. Yeah, it's another Thing, and it was partially inspired by Attack on Titan, but I wanted to try something eeeever so slightly different with it.
> 
> HOPE YOU HAVE FUN.

No one knows how the Wolves came to be; if they came from a different world, or if they'd always been part of humanity. They lived among humans undetected, watching them grow and flourish while the earth beneath them died. Maybe that's what eventually sparked them to act, or maybe it was something else entirely.

All people know now is that when they did reveal themselves, everything went to hell.

Humanity had grown complacent, using their magic to make their lives easier, or so the story goes. They built buildings tall enough to touch the sky, and drove around in powerful, roaring automobiles that spat pollution into the air. They paved black roads to travel by and tore down forests to make room for their indulgences.

That's what they _say,_ at least, and certainly, depending on where you go, you can find the crumbling remnants of what used to be, Before. It's been centuries since then, though, and the landscape has definitely changed -- for the better, in many ways.

The only downside is the Wolves -- massive beasts that can take on a human form at will. They fight to protect the land, or just to slaughter what's left of humanity. No one really knows for sure what their motives are, and it's only by training and honing their magics to fight the beasts that humanity has managed to continue to survive.

Humans still outnumber the Wolves, but every year, little by little, that number changes.

\---

As soon as he passes through the gate, Genki senses the wards flaring. For a second, it feels like he's trying to wade through thick water, his limbs heavy and resistant. His breath catches, his chest tightening in response, and then it's over and he exhales shakily, feeling an almost unwarranted amount of relief that he's been seen as a non-threat.

"They'll fix it later," the soldier guiding him promises, giving him a friendly smile. She's very pretty, her long hair tied back in a standard braid and her eyes a startling shade of blue. He can see the edge of a rune peeking over the high collar of her uniform and swallows thickly, straightening his back a little more.

"It's alright," he replies distractedly, trying to sound like he's anything other than absolutely terrified. He's never been around trained fighters -- never consorted with anyone but the people he shared his tiny, no-name fishing village with. Home is a long way away now, far in the south and tucked up against a slice of shoreline that's nothing but a speck compared to the Castellen Sea.

"Once they debrief you, we'll key your signature into the wards so you won't have any trouble coming or going."

Genki swallows again, his nod absentminded and jerky as they start moving further into the yard. His head feels like it's on a pivot, constantly swinging this way and that as he takes in his surroundings. The soldiers have taken over a farm that was probably abandoned long before they found it. They've kept the barn for their horses and livestock, and erected a few extra buildings to house the thirty-something-odd people that bustle around him. There's tables to eat at, and a squat building that must be the kitchen, considering the smoke piping from the chimney and the scent that wafts out the open door as they pass by.

The entire area, including part of the nearby field, has been surrounded by a rough-hewn wooden fence. It doesn't look like much, with gaps between the slots large enough for a medium-sized dog to slip through easily, but appearance doesn't matter much. Genki can feel the magic that's been carved into the fresh-cut logs now that he's within the barrier, but from the outside, the place had looked like nothing but an abandoned, unoccupied homestead.

There's a pen inside of the barrier, and that, Genki had not been expecting; at least, not a pen so heavily reinforced with wards and fighting magic that he feels the crackle of it all down his left side even from across the camp. There's nothing but a large tent inside the pen, tucked in the farthest corner from the main gate. If there's someone in the tent, he can't see them from so far away.

"Don't dawdle," the soldier -- Emma? -- chastises from ahead of him. Genki startles, unaware that he'd slowed to a stop, and whips his head around to stare at her with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, ma'am! I just… Ah, that is…" He lowers his eyes, feeling guilty, and tugs at the cuff of his grimy tunic. He's got nothing but the clothes he's wearing and a small knapsack stuffed full of what he'd deemed _important_ enough to bring along; they're all the worldly possessions he has left, now. He hasn't had a bath in nearly four days thanks to their relentless travel pace; needless to say, his clothes aren't the only thing grimy about him. He's very aware that he's out of his element, and being surrounded by so many soldiers -- feeling so many pairs of curious eyes burning through him -- is doing nothing to help his unease.

"It's alright." Her hand rests on his forearm, strong and callused from a lifetime of using her magic. He meets her understanding gaze and tries to smile.

"I promise I'm not always this pitiful," he whispers. Her answering laugh is anything but mocking.

"You've had a long few days," she says, absolving him of at least a few of his worries with gentle ease. "I know I haven't told you much, but I promise it will all be explained soon. Come on, we'll be late if we wait any longer, and that never makes a good first impression."

"Right." Genki scratches the side of his nose, wincing when he digs his thumbnail in a little too hard by accident. His magic flares warmly beneath his skin in response, seeking to help, and he dispels it with barely a thought.

Emma leads him to the main house, her boots thunking heavily up the steps and across the porch. Genki's steps are silent in comparison, his bare feet making hardly any noise as he follows close behind. The door closes behind them, and the scent of peppermint immediately cools and tickles his nose.

"Lieutenant Sev," Emma greets the man who's clearly waiting for him, offering her hand palm-out in greeting. The Lieutenant presses his knuckles to the center of her palm, the barest flicker of a smile softening his features.

"At ease, soldier." She relaxes back on her heels immediately, her hands tucking into the pockets of her breeches. "I trust the trip was uneventful?"

"Smooth and clear the whole way," Emma replies cheerfully. "Genki-" She looks at him, and he straightens again, feeling stiff and awkward. Nerves keep his belly churning, the feeling of nausea making him sway a little in place.

"At ease, soldier," she chuckles, resting a soothing hand on his shoulder and squeezing. She applies the faintest amount of pressure, trying to coax him into relaxing, but he can't find a drop of calmness anywhere in him.

"Genki, this is Lieutenant Sebastian. He's the man who sent me to bring you here."

"Lieutenant Sev works just fine, or Sir," the Lieutenant allows, offering Genki a large, scarred hand. There's a rune in the center of his palm; Genki's knuckles tremble when they press against it shyly. "I imagine you're wondering why you're here."

"I am, Sir," Genki admits, letting his hand drop back to his side as soon as the appropriate greeting is out of the way. He can hardly meet the Lieutenant's hawk-like brown eyes. His face shows the fatigue of a man who's aged beyond his actual years, the furrows between his brows carved deeply into place. His fleeting smile was a kind thing, but the runes Genki can see along the starched line of his collar suggest a far harsher nature.

"Please forgive us for not giving you much to go on." A large hand waves him toward a modest-looking couch, and Genki takes a seat, sinking into cushions that are far more comfortable than he'd anticipated. His surprise must show on his face; the Lieutenant chuckles and takes the seat across from him. Emma sits at the end of the small, polished coffee table between them without prompting watching intently.

"I… understand your hesitancy, in a way," Genki admits. He's had several days to ruminate and wonder _why me,_ and he can understand the need for ignorance in a broad-spectrum kind of way. Had they been stopped, that ignorance could very well have saved their lives. "I still don't understand why _I_ was chosen, though, Sir."

Lieutenant Sev leans back in his seat with a long, slow sigh, crossing his legs and clearly settling in for a long conversation. "My sweepers picked up your signature while they were scanning for hopefuls," he begins, those sharp eyes of his taking Genki in from the top of his tangled, messy blonde head to the dirty soles of his feet. Oh Goddess, he's been walking across _rugs._ He immediately picks his feet up, crossing his legs to keep him from getting dirt all over the furniture and leaning forward so his sweaty back is exposed to the cool air of the house. Belatedly, he catches sight of a pot of peppermint that's been set on the closest bay window.

"Genki, it's alright." His eyes snap back to the Lieutenant, who gives him a slight nod. "You don't need to worry about the state of my floors. I assure you, they've seen worse than a little dirt."

"I'd rather not be the reason your cushions smell of salt water and fish," Genki mumbles. "Why me though?" he continues before the Lieutenant can try to put him at ease any further; he knows himself well enough to know that that's not going to happen right now. "The sweepers, they were looking for _fighting_ potential, weren't they? So, why me?"

"The military accepts anyone blessed with magical ability," Lieutenant Sev says firmly. "They were looking for soldiers, yes, but when they picked up your signature, it presented us with an opportunity we could not simply pass up. Tell me, were your parents healers as well?"

Genki swallows around the sudden lump in his throat and ducks his head. "I don't know." His voice is soft, and he can hear how emotion makes his words waver. "They died in the war when I was really young. The village raised me and taught me everything I needed to know, but no one ever said if they were healers, or fighters, or anything."

"How has no one found you before?"

He shrugs, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder subconsciously. "Dunno. We're kind of way out there. Hardly anyone ever finds us."

"Even with the coordinates the sweepers provided, I still struggled," Emma admits. Genki had nearly forgotten she was there, she's been so quiet. "I lost nearly a full day searching before I found anyone."

"So it could just be that no one was able to find you, even if they did catch your signature," the Lieutenant surmises. "I suppose their loss will be our gain."

"I'll be healing soldiers then, Sir?" Genki ventures. Why else would he be here, if not for that? "How heavy is the fighting in this area?"

"It's gotten better," Lieutenant Sev grunts, rubbing a hand over his face. If possible, he looks even more tired now than he had a moment ago. "Ever since the arrival of our guest, we've had an easier time fighting."

Genki thinks of the heavily-warded pen and the tent large enough to fit at least seven or eight soldiers. "Your guest, Sir?"

The Lieutenant looks at him, serious and somber, and Genki shivers at the unfamiliar feeling of battle magic crackling just beyond the edge of his awareness, like a storm slowly brewing to life.

"Tell me, son, have you ever seen a Wolf up close?"

Genki has never seen a Wolf in real life at all. He's never even seen a picture of one. All he can do is mutely shake his head, the anxiety in his stomach turning to heavy dread as his mind races with implications.

"I don't know how to fight anything bigger than a stray dog, Sir," he rasps weakly, realizing after far too long that the Lieutenant is still waiting for an answer.

At that, the man laughs. "No one is going to ask you to, Genki," he promises with a firm shake of his head. "Your magic isn't designed for fighting, and aside from those strays you mentioned, I don't think you have much combat skill." Genki doesn't even try to protest that, because the man is absolutely right. "We can change that, if you'd like, but you'll never see the fighting up close if I have any say. No, it's like you said; you'll heal the soldiers, when we need you to. However, the task I have in mind for you is different."

There's something about the way he says _different_ that makes Genki want to refuse on principle. It makes him desperate to run back home and hide away in his tiny hut, where there's nothing but his work and the strays he feeds and the people he's known all his life to keep him safe and comfortable.

When he speaks, he's horrified by his own words. 

"What did you have in mind, Sir?"

"We've caught a Wolf," the Lieutenant says bluntly, giving him no time to prepare himself. "We've got him collared and controlled by our strongest fighters and warders, and that keeps him complacent enough, but-"

"You've captured a _Wolf?"_ Genki squeaks, embarrassed at how high his voice sounds. Realizing that he's just interrupted the dangerous man in front of him, he pales and slaps a hand over his mouth. His eyes are so wide they ache and water.

"We have," the Lieutenant replies slowly after a moment. "This is not our first attempt at doing so, but it _is_ the first time we've managed to successfully restrain one that hasn't died within a day, or found a way to kill itself. Part of that is the collar's doing; if he tries to harm himself, it knocks him out. If he tries to attack a human, it shocks him until he retreats. We've gone through a lot of trial and error to get this far, and if we can continue forward, it could mean a whole new way to fight the Wolves. If we attack them with their own kind, we can change _everything."_

"So, what's my part in this?" Genki can't even begin to wrap his head around what Lieutenant Sev is suggesting. What makes him think a plan like this will _work?_ A Wolf will never attack its own kind. Not even a controlled Wolf. There's absolutely no way.

"He's refusing to heal himself when he gets injured, and none of our healers are strong enough to heal the kinds of injuries he sustains in battle. It turns out that Wolves will attack their own if they feel they've been betrayed. In the last fight, he took significant damage to his flanks. Until he heals, I cannot utilize him, and he's doing everything he can to make it difficult for me. He hasn't let the wounds become infected, but he's somehow managed to stop his own accelerated healing. I was content to wait him out and beat him at his own game, or have the handlers knock him out so the healers could do what little they were able to. Then my sweepers found you."

"What's the reward of this?" Genki chokes out, his head spinning. "This is slavery and brutality. You've made him no better than an animal!"

"He killed twenty of my soldiers before he was subdued," the Lieutenant replies coldly. Genki flinches back and drops his gaze. "Since we have obtained him, he's killed nearly ten wolves in four months. That's more than most platoons can boast in a year. I've lost less soldiers, and overall casualties haven't been nearly as severe. With those kinds of results, son, I'll do what I have to do. He and his brethren have slaughtered us without mercy or hesitation for far too long. It's high time they get a taste of their own medicine."

"So you want me to heal him," Genki says weakly, his stomach clenching. He feels dangerously close to throwing up his meager breakfast rations. Digging his nails into his knees, he tries to use the pain to clear his mind, but it's blunt through his lightweight breeches and not nearly enough. "What if I can't?"

"Then we'll find a suitable position for you. I cannot force you to do anything, Genki." Despite his words, the Lieutenant looks like he's more than willing to try. "But understand our position as well. My soldiers aren't thrilled to have that fleabitten bastard so close to where they sleep and shit, but they understand the necessity of utilizing every weapon in their arsenal. That's all we're doing, here. Finding a way to turn the tide of this Gods-damned endless war."

That makes sense, in a way. Genki grew up so removed from the fighting that he could almost have passed it off as just a dream. Aside from his parents, hardly anyone ever left the village for anything more than trading purposes -- and even that was a journey that took well over a month. Their magics were mostly useful for fishing and keeping the huts from blowing over during storms; Genki wasn't the only healer, but he was the strongest of them. Until the Lieutenant's sweepers and Emma, no outsiders ever stumbled across them.

What must it be like to live so close to this kind of slaughter every single day? To wake up unsure if today will be the last day you see your friends or think of your loved ones? That kind of looming pressure must be crippling. It must make them desperate.

When you're that desperate, even something insane must be worth the risk, if it means you live to see tomorrow.

Rubbing the moisture from his eyes, Genki takes a deep, shaky breath.

"What do you need me to do?"

Lieutenant Sev looks at him for a moment, his eyes searching for something Genki isn't sure he'll find. At last, after the tension in the room has become nearly stifling, the man nods and stands.

"Sergeant Pyrs, go find Mills and Bower," he commands. "Have them meet us at the pen as soon as they're able to. I want Genki's signature introduced into all of the wards before dusk. For now, we'll use them to get him through the gate."

"Yes, Sir!" Emma practically bounces to her feet and rushes from the room, her face set into a determined expression that doesn't match the gentleness she's shown Genki so far. He pushes himself off the couch, his feet thumping quietly onto the rug, and hovers uncertainly while the Lieutenant watches him.

"If nothing else, Genki, I ask that you do your best to heal him today," the man says quietly. He sounds exhausted, as though the weight of what he has been tasked with is a burden he's struggling to carry. "You do not have to accept my request it you cannot bring yourself to commit to this; I will not judge you for whatever you choose. I simply ask that you try."

Biting the inside of his lip, Genki nods silently, picking at the cuff of his tunic again as he's led from the sitting room. He'd hoped he'd have the chance to shower as soon as they arrived, but that's clearly something that will have to wait until later. He's used to ending his days covered in grime and anything from fish scales to blood, but he'd always been able to scrub himself clean afterwards. He managed to bathe before Emma helped hoist him onto the back of a horse -- he's grateful for his magic, or he wouldn't be able to _move_ right now -- but that was days ago.

Is it wise to meet his first Wolf smelling like a horse and four days worth of sweat? What if he offends the creature? Will it try to kill him on sight? Will it tear him open with a claw, or kill him with one swipe of its paw? What if-

He walks into the Lieutenant, too wrapped up in his mounting fear to realize the man has stopped. Stumbling over his own feet, he quickly puts space between them and raises his hands. His fear spikes when he realizes they've already reached the Wolf's pen.

"I'm so sorry, Sir! I was distracted, I wasn't paying attention, I should have been looking where I was going-"

"Damn, Sev, scaring the new kids already? Y'know this is why they call you the Demon, right?"

Genki turns to stare at the newcomers, swallowing his own spit wrong and immediately choking when he sees the two men standing side by side. One has dark skin and feline features, his hair pulled back into the tight, looping braids some fighters from the far Southern villages favor. His eyes are golden, and every inch of his skin is covered in fighting runes, from just under his chin down to the waist of his breeches. Despite the coolness of the day, he's not wearing a tunic, and he seems completely comfortable with his half-dressed state.

"Kash Mills," the Lieutenant introduces blandly, and the man tilts his head toward Genki with a crooked grin. "And Tok Bower." The other man is dressed more appropriately, though his tunic is sleeveless. His bare arms are heavily tattooed with the runes typically used for sealing and warding, and a few runes creep up his throat. He's much paler than his companion; his hair is a riot of reddish-brown curls cropped close to his skull. At a glance, Genki guesses he's from the North. Green eyes twinkle with amusement when he meets Genki's nervous gaze.

"Pleasure to meet you. My name's Genki." His voice is shaking again, but considering the circumstances, he doubts anyone will blame him.

"No last name?" Kash asks curiously. When Genki shakes his head, he clicks his tongue. "Huh. Tiny village, then?"

"Very." Nerves are eating away at him, and he can't help but look from them to the pen, his eyes tracing the runes and seals biting deeply into the wood. Several runes look like they've got blood pressed into the grooves. All the hair on his body is standing on end, his skin prickling from his proximity to the pen's fence. If magic had its own distinctive voice, he's fairly certain this particular spell would be screaming, _Go away._

If only he could.

A hand claps down on his shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts. He and Kash are roughly the same height, though Genki can't help but notice that he's broader than the soldier. He's well-muscled and strong from a life of work. Kash has muscle, but he's more lean and toned than bulky.

"You ready for this, kid?" Kash catches his flitting gaze, those golden eyes narrowed and searching. Possibly looking for the same thing Genki is sure the Lieutenant failed to find.

"No," he croaks, and for some reason, that makes the man drop his head back and laugh loudly. He's even got runes tattooed across the underside of his chin and jaw, Genki notices.

"Great," Tok says, stepping up to stand on his other side with a smile that isn't quite as intimidating.

"Let's get started then."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't overuse your magic, kids lol

Genki isn't entirely sure what to expect when Kash and Tok unlock the gate wards -- a bright flash, or maybe some kind of whistling noise? Emma hadn't done anything at the main entrance to the camp, but considering those wards are in place to hide the area from sight, he supposes she wouldn't have needed to. So long as they knew where the opening was, they could get in. If it was someone who wasn't supposed to be there, then the alarms would trigger.

The two men don't even glow, from what he can tell -- and with Kash, it would have been impossible to miss. All they do is close their eyes and take a deep, simultaneous breath. Genki waits, trying not to fidget or make any sound that could break their concentration. After a moment, he hears an odd, echoing click behind his right ear, and he reflexively turns his head that way, blinking when he finds Emma smiling at him.

"That'll do it," Kash says cheerfully, shoving the gate open with a careless kick that makes Genki flinch and take a step back. "Hey, hey, don't worry so much," the man chuckles, grabbing for the crook of his arm and pulling him forward. Genki tries to resist, but the soldier is stronger than him, and he quickly resigns himself to being guided along before something gets dislocated.

As soon as they're back in front of the open gate, Tok stops them. "It'll be alright," he promises, unhooking his friend's iron-like grip with ease and smoothing out the wrinkles he's creased into Genki's tunic. "It's okay to be afraid," he adds quietly, giving Genki a reassuring smile. Genki swallows painfully and nods, a quick, stiff jerk of his head that's meant to be an affirmation but lacks any confidence.

"You two can stay where you are," the warder adds, loud enough for the Lieutenant and Emma to hear. They stop several feet back, and Lieutenant Sev frowns severely.

"I asked him to take on this task," he begins, and scowls when Kash clicks his tongue sharply to cut off any further explanation.

"And you're the reason the beast is in there," Kash replies, stepping between Genki and his commanding officer. For a moment, just a brief pulse, Genki feels electricity crackle down his spine. He doesn't turn around, his frightened stare fixed on the tent that seems suddenly too terrifyingly close.

"It'll be alright," he says faintly, lying to everyone, including himself. "I just… have to heal him, right? In and out. It'll be _fine."_

"We won't let anything happen to you." Tok squeezes his wrist gently. Behind him, Kash hums a warbling tune. "He cannot hurt you," the man continues, guiding him through the gate with ease despite the fact that Genki's feet feel like they're made of iron. He stumbles along, panic writhing in his chest until he feels like he can't breathe. Behind him, he hears Kash swing the gate closed; it latches and there's another echoing click. It's followed by a swell of pressure that Genki knows means they've reactivated the wards.

"I'm think I'm gonna die," he wheezes, and when Kash laughs he closes his eyes in despair.

The Southerner presses up against his back, his pointed chin digging lightly into Genki's shoulder. He doesn't seem to have any compulsions about physical contact; maybe he comes from a village where affection like this is commonplace. It's not the norm in Genki's home outside of pair bonds, but it's not entirely unwelcome. Kash is warm -- warmer than he'd expected the man to be -- and his touch helps away some of the cold fear clawing up Genki's throat.

"Are you this warm because you're a fighter?" he wonders aloud, flushing when the man snorts against his tunic and squeezes him in another quick hug before letting go.

"My main magic is electricity," Kash says, nudging him until his feet start moving again. "It keeps me pretty warm. Fire is my secondary, which just makes me warmer. So, are all your people this dark naturally?"

The sudden shift in topic startles him, but not as much as Kash grabbing his hand and twining their fingers together, lifting their clasped fists to admire the differences of their skin. Genki's tan is dark, but Kash's skin is several shades darker, a deep, russet brown next to Genki's paler tawny.

"It's from the sun," he replies, distracted from Kash's curiosity by the tent that suddenly seems to loom over them. The canvas is dark blue, so dark it's nearly black; the center post rises several feet above their heads, high enough that he couldn't touch the top even if he jumped.

"So it's not an all-over tan, then?"

Kash's question is immediately followed by the distinctive sound of a smack and a disgruntled curse, but Genki doesn't turn around to look -- he's too busy twitching and trying not to panic, the hem of his tunic hopelessly twisted and crumpled between his clenching fingers.

"It's called _tact,_ Kash," Tok grumbles, clearly well-versed in dealing with his companion's particular personality. He steps up beside Genki, bumping their shoulders gently to draw his attention away from the tent. "He cannot hurt you," he repeats quietly. "If he could, he already would have. He's known we were coming since you left the house."

"That… That doesn't actually make me feel any better at all." Genki scratches at the side of his throat, his anxiety growing until he's swaying in place. The feeling that he's about to be sick is a very real threat that keeps creeping closer and closer.

"Oi!" Kash barks suddenly, nearly giving him a heart attack. He flinches away from the man, gasping for air he realizes he hasn't been taking in. "Come on out and say hello, Gun. Don't be rude."

"Gun?" Genki echoes. What kind of name is that? He immediately edges away from the tent when he hears movement coming from inside; something heavy that's moving slowly. It's the sound of fur and something with _weight_ dragging across bedding as the beast lumbers to his feet. The flaps that make up the entrance twitch, and Genki takes a much larger step back when a wide, flat black nose nudges the heavy canvas aside.

A broad, boxy muzzle follows, and then a face. Dark, fathomless blue-green eyes pin him in place, cold and burning with an intelligence Genki has never seen in the eyes of any of the strays he's cared for throughout the years. The Wolf's head is wider than his chest, and his shoulders are broader than any field horse. His fur is dull and black, clumped together in places by old blood and matted at the base of his flattened ears. Black lips twitch, curling back to bare fangs longer and thicker than Genki's fingers. Saliva drips from them, and they split apart for a wide pink tongue to lick it away before those formidable jaws click shut again.

Slowly, as if moving doesn't come easily, the rest of the Wolf comes into view, sunlight falling across his sides and flanks, and then finally his bushy, matted tail. He's the largest creature Genki has ever seen aside from the great blue whales that call the seas home, and even those he never saw _this_ close. Suddenly the sheer size of the tent makes sense, but somehow, it still seems too small and frail to hold such a monstrous beast.

"H-Hello," Genki whispers, and the Wolf pauses, his ears flicking forward. He doesn't growl or snap his teeth, paws larger than an ancient automobile's tires pressing into the soft grass as he lifts himself to his fullest height. He's easily over nine feet tall at the shoulder, and it's his shoulder that Genki notices first, stumbling closer with a startled gasp when he sees pink-red muscle and the exposed curve of bone.

Something -- _another Wolf,_ his mind supplies -- has clawed the creature, carving three deep gouges into his flesh. Puncture wounds easily as wide as his thumb litter the creature's sides and legs, and near the base of his tail are more gouges carved by massive claws. They're paired with deep, jagged tears that must have come from another Wolf's teeth. Now that Genki is looking, he can see the full extent of the damage, and his palms tingle with a warmth that is as familiar and comforting to him as his own heartbeat.

"Please," he breathes, taking one unsteady step closer, and then another. The Wolf regards him with those glittering, shrewd eyes, but doesn't snarl or lash out when Genki reaches up with a trembling hand. "Please," he repeats, distantly aware of Kash and Tok as they watch the scene unfolding before them, no doubt ready to leap to his aide should things go badly.

"There's so much," Genki murmurs, feeling tears leak from the corners of his eyes. "How… Who could survive this?"

_There are not many who can._

It's a thought, but the voice is not his own -- it's far too deep and rumbling, somehow echoing inside his head. It reminds him of smoke, manifesting to form an impression of words that dissipate before he can grab hold of them. The tone holds no boasting, merely a pain and exhaustion that sinks deeply into Genki's bones and leaves him struggling to stay on his feet instead of crumpling.

"I'm here to heal you." The words stick in his throat, clinging to his teeth and trembling like a leaf once he finds enough air to speak them.

_Why?_

"Why?" he repeats, confused and anxious. His fingers twitch, spreading wide and glowing faintly green at the tips.

_For what gain?_

"Gain?" He feels like a parrot, and he knows without looking that the pair behind him are just as confused, sharing looks behind his back as he talks to the towering Wolf. "Why must there be a gain?"

_There is always something to gain. If not for you, then for another. He sent you here knowing you know nothing. You are nothing but a cub amongst Wolves, blind and unable to find your feet._

For some reason, that stings. "I just want to help." His voice shakes, the words almost unrecognizable, but he means them.

_Me, or yourself?_

At that, Genki laughs, the sound choked and faintly bitter. The Wolf huffs in reply, dropping his head to meet Genki's watery eyes. He's so _big,_ the sense danger radiating from him almost overwhelming. Genki can smell his musk and the stench of blood, and the combination makes his stomach lurch unpleasantly.

"What do I gain from this?" Rubbing the moisture away, he sniffs weakly, his fingers warm against his cooled cheeks. "I was taken from my home without knowing why. I was barely given a choice. After being brought here, I was told I'm not allowed to leave, even if I don't help you, all because of a magic I cannot change. What is there for me to gain?"

Tears drip from the end of his nose and leak into the corner of his mouth, spreading salt and misery over his tongue. The reality of his situation is like a spear of ice through his chest, wrenching sobs from his tight throat until it aches in time with his throbbing heart.

"I didn't ask to be here," he whispers, wiping his tears away with a rough sleeve. He's always been an easy crier -- a sensitive soul, his neighbor used to coo at him when he'd come home with another animal that needed help. His nature makes it impossible for him to see pain and ignore it. Anything from a rope abrasion to broken bones -- he can't just walk away when he knows he can make it better.

_You are a curious cub,_ the Wolf rumbles. _You wish to heal me so they can send me out to get injured again. So I can kill my own kind for the safety of yours. Arrogant little things, aren't you humans._

"We heal our own so they can be torn apart by Wolves," Genki argues without any heat. His voice sounds wet and miserable. "War is the same on both sides. Everyone has their reasons and beliefs. Everyone wants to prove their reason is the right one. We want to protect what's precious to us. Wolves have their cause, and humans have theirs. So long as it continues like that, so will the fighting."

One dark ear flicks forward. _You say that as if you are not one of those humans. You certainly are not a Wolf. So where, then, do you stand?_

The creature's muzzle is so close, his breath hot against Genki's face and chest. He flinches out of reflex, unused to being so close to anyone, especially a creature that could rip his head off with barely any effort.

"My village is remote," he says quietly. His magic swells beneath his skin impatiently; he shouldn't be talking, he should be _healing._ "We were almost never affected by the war. My parents died when I was young, but no one else ever joined the fighting. It made it all seem like a dream. Like none of it was real." He winces at his own explanation and looks away, unable to meet the Wolf's piercing eyes. "I know that it isn't a dream," he says quickly, terrified of rousing the beast's anger. "I know that it's very, very real. It just… It was never my choice. It's never been my fight. So I can't understand it, I guess."

_You are truly a curious cub._ _You seem very comfortable offering your throat to a monster._ The Wolf heaves a sigh and lays down, his massive front paws crossed neatly over one another. He must be in an incredible amount of pain physically, but he acts like he can't feel it. If Genki couldn't feel an impression of his agony in his thoughts, he could almost believe the Wolf is unaffected by his wounds.

"The villagers always said I never had any self-preservation instincts," he tries to joke, inching closer to the reclining creature. He's going to be in trouble soon, if he lets his magic build up for too much longer without a proper outlet. He can already feel the beginnings of a migraine pulsing in his temples. "Please, you don't have to trust me. You don't even have to like me. I'm sure you'd rather just kill me, and honestly, I don't really blame you. But, please, just let me-"

_Do as you wish._

The permission is a balm, a verbal agreement that soothes his fretful nature, and Genki doesn't waste any time. His knees hit the dirt hard enough to hurt, his palms hovering above the Wolf's mangled shoulder.

"I might not be able to get it all at once," he admits, his magic already sinking deep into torn flesh; soothing away the pain until the area is numb before he begins the process of knitting muscle and tissue back together. The bone is whole and strong, thank the Goddess, just lightly scraped. "There is a lot of damage. It's incredible you aren't dead."

_We are stubborn, and it takes a great deal to kill us._

"I can see that." His magic's mossy green color wells out of the slowly-closing gouges, seeking any smaller injuries in close proximity. Genki's eyes are closed, but he can see and feel it all clearly; the way his magic searches through thick, warm fur, creeping up the back of the Wolf's majestic head to heal his torn ear. He stutters over the foreign feeling of the collar for a moment, caught off guard by the powerful binding magic, but he's quick to move on when it doesn't lash out.

His hands are still steady, his energy a strong, unwavering comfort, so Genki moves his way down to the Wolf's flanks, shuffling on his knees with no regard for the grass and dirt stains he's grinding into his breeches. Some of his magic lingers to finish closing the creature's shoulders, and he's confident that the scar tissue will be minimal. He can't remove it completely, not for a wound like that, but it won't hinder the Wolf or pain him on colder or rainy days, and that's all that matters.

_You are very dedicated to your craft, little cub, aren't you?_

Genki's hum is a distracted, noncommittal sound. "Isn't everyone?" he mumbles distractedly, frowning when he finds the beginnings of a dark-angry pulse of infection setting in at the base of the Wolf's tail. So even a creature like him, with accelerated healing, can't prevent the inevitable forever. Genki has never known anyone, human or otherwise, who could negate their own magic or ability without drastic repercussions. "Are all Wolves blessed with healing magic?"

_We have no magic._

"How do you heal so quickly?" The infection lights up the back of his eyelids like a sickly purple-black smear. He bites the inside of his lip until he tastes blood as his magic carefully burns away every nauseating speck, until the tissue is pink-red and healthy again. His hands are beginning to shake, but he's determined to heal as much as he can before he hits his limit. His healing magic works quickly -- possibly the same way the Wolf's natural healing does -- but the acceleration process behind it takes its toll on Genki's body, and he's never had to heal such drastic injuries before. Regardless, he's _strong_ , and he's confident enough to know that about himself; he can go a little farther. He can heal more, he _knows_ he can.

_It is a quirk of our makeup, much like your magic for you humans. Stop now. You've done enough._

"No," Genki protests through clenched teeth. He can feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck; there's something warm and wet on his upper lip. "No, I can keep going. Just a little more."

_Stop._

Genki's magic retreats sluggishly, leaving the wounds half-closed. He's crying, he realizes belatedly, his temples throbbing like someone's been using his head for drumming practice. He feels weak and shaky; as soon as he opens his eyes, the sudden harshness of the light blinds him. His stomach lurches, bile rushing up his throat, and he turns his head away from the Wolf just in time to throw up a few inches shy of his tail.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he coughs between bouts of vomit, trying to force his trembling legs to work so he can drag himself farther away. They won't cooperate with him, and he ends up slumped over his knees, the cool air chilling his sweat. He's so cold, but his face is hot and flushed, and he can't tell if it's from the sudden onset of the migraine or his own mortification.

"Genki!" Warm, gentle hands stroke his back, Tok's voice too loud and sudden above him. He whines, flinching away from it and trying to cover his ears. His hands are caught and pulled away carefully, the warder's voice much quieter when he speaks again.

"Damn it, kid, didn't anyone ever warn you of the backlash of pushing yourself too hard?"

"I had… to try…" Genki wheezes, gagging up a little more bile and foam before his body gives out and he feels himself being guided against Tok's firm, warm chest.

"You did great, kid. Next time, try not to kill yourself to prove a point," Tok mutters. The shoulder his head is resting on shifts when the man turns his head. "Go get me one of the repairing drinks, Kash, and tell Zula we're gonna need a pot of oatmeal mash. Emma can bring it, or fuckin' Sev. Keying is gonna have to wait until tomorrow; the damn Demon can hold off until then. Tell him if I see his face at any point before noon tomorrow, he's gonna lose a few teeth."

"Tapped out good and hard, didn't ya, little guy?" Kash's usually boisterous voice is low and gentle. Genki feels too-warm fingers card through his sweaty hair and groans; even such a light touch is painful right now.

"Bigger'n you," he slurs, obediently going quiet when Tok shushes him. Kash chuckles fondly, and then he's gone, the already-familiar crackle of his magic fading as he strides across the pen.

"Couldn't finish," Genki moans, tears and snot and other things he's trying hard not to think about soaking into Tok's tunic. His mouth tastes _awful._ "Couldn't do it."

"No one should have expected you to, kid," Tok murmurs, rubbing his back with slow, sweeping strokes. "That was way too much damage for anyone to handle in one shot. Sev should have _known_ that. Even masters of their craft would need two or three sessions, and you tried to do it in one. Are you insane, Genki?"

"It's our fault." Genki feels as weak as a newborn fawn, struggling to hold onto the warder's tunic with fingers that won't curl properly. The man makes a noise of confusion, and Genki sighs. "Our fault he's like that. Not fair. Had to make it right."

"Oh, Genki." Lips touch his temple, a light kiss that makes him tuck his face deeper into the crook of Tok's neck. "That's not your burden to bear, kid. You didn't do this."

"But I'm here to help." He should stop talking -- every time he opens his mouth it makes his migraine flare. His throat is raw and burning, and his chest feels like someone has tried to punch a hole through his lungs.

Tok sighs, squeezing him in a way that's probably meant to feel reassuring. All it does is make Genki feel like his bones are brittle enough to break, but he appreciates the gesture. "Helping doesn't mean you're supposed to die trying to heal injuries you didn't cause in the first place."

_He is wise. You should listen to him._

"Please don't," Genki whimpers, doubling over at the bolt of agony that lances through his head. "I can't- it hurts-"

"Breathe, Genki, it's alright. Kash will be back soon." Tok picks him up, the sudden movement making him whimper. There are no trees in the pen, but the light glaring against his eyelids suddenly dims, and Genki realizes that the warder must have moved them into the shadow of the tent. He cracks his eyes open warily and sees that he's right -- and that the Wolf has followed them. Even with his vision blurry from tears, Genki can tell that he's already moving better than before.

"Sorry," he rasps, and that massive head swings his way. "Hurts too much when y'talk right now. Jus'... Jus' gimme a minute. Head's gonna fall off."

"I promise we won't let that happen." Tok brushes his sweaty bangs away from his eyes. "Kash is coming back. You'll feel better once you get the repairing drink in you. Hopefully we won't sound so loud then."

"S'not you." Genki lets himself be guided into a sitting position, too weak and wracked with pain to feel embarrassed about the fact that he's practically straddling a grown man's lap. Tok is warm and supportive against his back, a steady foundation for him to rest against that he leans into gratefully.

"Should I be jealous?" Kash teases as soon as he's close enough; Genki watches him kneel and unscrew the cap of a ribbed glass bottle full of a strange yellow liquid. He doesn't realize it's glowing at first, until Kash suddenly holding his chin and tilting the rim against his mouth.

"You're not actually as funny as you think you are, Mills." Tok sounds too fond to be annoyed, and Genki wonders -- not for the first time since he's met them all of two hours ago -- if maybe they're a pair bond. They certainly seem close enough to be paired, though with how easily Kash shares affection, maybe it's just that he's a natural flirt as well.

The drink is warm, and tastes faintly like ginger and mint. It's not a flavor he's expecting, or a combination that should work as well as it does, but he likes it. He drinks as quickly as Kash will let him, grateful for the way it soothes his throat and calms his stomach. A faint pulse of unfamiliar magic spreads through him, warning him all the way to the tips of his fingers.

"The mash'll be ready in ten minutes," Kash murmurs, thumbing away a drop of excess liquid that leaks from the corner of Genki's mouth. "Jesus, kid, you're a mess," he scolds. "I've never known anyone push that hard when they've hit their limit. You gave yourself a goddamn nosebleed. Try not to be so reckless next time, alright?"

"Wanted to do more," Genki whispers, looking past the fighter and meeting the Wolf's steady, intense gaze. He twitches, swallowing and licking his lips. The last traces of the drink taste like honey in his mouth. "Why d'you call him Gun?"

"Sev's idea of a clever joke." Kash rolls his eyes and spits on his fingers, using his saliva to try and clean the blood from Genki's face. When Genki tries to turn his head away with a noise of protest, the man holds him in place with a hand cupping his jaw. "Said since we were gonna use him as a weapon, we might as well name him like one."

"Why didn't anyone ask if he had a name?" His question is aimed toward them, but Genki never looks away from the Wolf, searching that furry, unreadable face.

"He's never shifted, so we couldn't exactly ask him. Hold still, damn it, you ain't a five year old." Kash squeezes his jaw gently in reprimand, wiping his fingers clean on his breeches before spitting on them again and rubbing away a smear of blood Genki has somehow managed to streak across his face.

"Why not just ask him when he's like this?" His head doesn't hurt as sharply anymore, but he's far from recovered enough to try asking the Wolf himself. Exhaustion is winning over everything else as it is; at this rate, he doubts he'll be awake long enough to eat whatever mash it is they're planning on feeding him.

Kash pauses, giving him a strange look.

"We've tried. He never answered."

He feels as sluggish as his magic, struggling to grasp what it is the fighter is trying to say.

"Huh?"

"Genki," Tok says, his voice serious enough to catch Genki's attention despite the fog of sleep that's quickly enveloping his thoughts and turning his limbs to lead. "None of us have ever heard him speak. You're the first person he's talked to since he was brought here."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Health problems suck, friends. 12/10 do not recommend.
> 
> Also, part of the reason for my delay is that I'm working on two other things as well as this -- I'm just not going to post them for a while.
> 
> Have some more of Genki being generally awkward and anxious about everything that has to do with life.

The sound of muffled laughter coming through the window wakes Genki. For a moment, he forgets where he is, assuming it's the village's only pack of children racing by his hut; weaving between homes made of mud-sand and straw, laughing and shrieking as they play whatever game the ringleaders have decided on that day.

Children don't sound like full-grown adults, though. And he can't hear the sound of the waves rolling in and out. The air smells like cooking meat and sweat; unfamiliar magics tingle along the edges of his awareness before flitting away.

_Ah, that's right. I'm not at home anymore._

There's a bowl of water beside his bed, shimmering with the same golden light as the sun spilling in between the slats of the blinds. When he turns his head enough to look at it, his eyes gritty and stinging with exhaustion, numbers and a date rise from the surface and hover just above the bowl. As he watches, the end number ticks a little higher.

_12:17. I haven't slept this long since my magic first manifested. At least it's only been a day._

Groaning, Genki pushes himself up to sit against the headboard, rubbing away the last dregs of sleep clinging to the corners of his sore eyes. His migraine is nothing more than a dull ache, which he's grateful for. The room is a little too bright for his liking, even with the blinds providing a little reprieve, but at least he can _see._

Honestly, part of him is amazed he's not dead. Overusing one's magic can have disastrous effects, and he definitely went overboard healing the Wolf yesterday. He still can't find it in himself to regret it.

There's a cup beside the bowl -- it looks handmade, the clay a dark, earthy color with smoothed-down ridges. There's a note stuck to the side that simply says _drink all of me_ in, frankly, _atrocious_ handwriting. It makes him smile, wondering who wrote it as he lifts the cup to his dry, cracked lips and sips at the glowing blue liquid inside. It tastes like fresh-picked strawberries.

He takes in the room while he drinks, surprised to see that he's been given his own bedroom rather than a cot in the barracks. The walls are whitewashed plaster void of any decorations; the furniture is dark-stained wood that looks sturdy and dulled by age. Aside from the bed and the nightstand, there's a squat chest of drawers with a mirror. Strangely, the door is yellow.

The potion does its job, leeching the last of the migraine and taking the ache from his hands. He massages feeling back into them just to be sure, once he's set the empty cup aside. With magic like his, his hands take a fair amount of the strain, even when he doesn't push his limits. It's no surprise that his fingers are bent into crooked claws, after what he put himself through yesterday.

_It was worth it,_ he tells himself determinedly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and easing himself into a standing position. _I was brought here to do a job, and I did it._ He sways in place, his vision blurring, but after a deep breath and a few slow blinks, everything rights itself again.

_I hope he's okay. I should go check on him._

Another step, and his stomach growls loud enough to startle him. Genki rubs his abdomen sheepishly, feeling embarrassed even though there's no one around to see him. The urge to relieve himself is stronger than his need for food, so he cracks open the door and listens for any voices. They come from downstairs, muted by distance and the floor, but he's got no doubt that they're aware he's awake now; the floorboards creak in a few places as he searches for the bathroom -- which, thankfully, doesn't take him long to find.

Sighing in relief once his bladder is empty, he washes his hands and takes a quick peek out of the porthole-style window above the toilet. He can see a decent portion of the farmstead; soldiers running drills and sitting at tables, laughing and reading and seeming generally relaxed despite being so close to the front lines of the fighting. It calms some of the anxiety writhing in his chest, and he eyes the sink, wishing he had a way to clean his teeth. He'll have to find someone and ask.

Opening the door, Genki looks up expecting to see an empty hallway leading to the stairs, and nearly has a heart attack when he finds Emma leaning against the wall outside the bathroom. She's clearly been waiting for him, if her smile is any indication.

"Goddess above," he wheezes, clutching at his chest and feeling the rapid pounding of his heart. "I think you just carved a few years off my life, Emma. _Please_ don't do that."

"You did that well enough on your own, yesterday," the Sergeant replies, her tone mildly reproachful. "We asked you to heal him, Genki, but that doesn't mean we wanted you to _kill_ yourself to do it."

Wincing, he massages his right palm, unable to fully meet her stare. "There was a lot of damage," he mumbles, knowing it's a poor excuse but doing his best to explain anyway. "I kept thinking, 'just a little more. I'll stop after just a little more.' I wanted to do as much as I could."

"I imagine you're hungry after expending so much of your magic, and the Lieutenant is going to want to speak to you anyway." The soldier pushes herself off the wall and stands with her arms crossed and her legs shoulder-width apart. Somehow, Genki feels like the Lieutenant's idea of _speaking with him_ isn't going to be nearly as innocent as Emma is making it sound. The thought does nothing to help his mounting anxiety.

"Could I, ah, clean my teeth first? Before I meet him?" he asks hopefully. After a moment, Emma's expression softens and she nods toward the bathroom door he's still standing in front of.

"There's cleaning potions in the medicine cabinet. You'll only need one, trust me. Hurry up though, Sev knows you're awake; it won't do you any good to make him wait too long."

Nodding, Genki quickly shuts himself in the bathroom again, exhaling a shaky breath against the dark wood of the door. _Why did I ever agree to this?_ he laments to himself, taking a moment to gather the scraps of his courage before he turns to find one of the potions. They're in tiny glass jars barely half the size of his thumb, stacked neatly in rows on the bottom shelf of the cabinet. The magic in them makes them glow a light, icy blue color that reminds him of the pictures of snow he used to see in colored children's books.

The contents of a single bottle is hardly enough to coat his tongue, but Emma's promise that he'll only need one definitely wasn't a lie. His mouth already tastes clean and refreshed, with the faint, lingering tingle of peppermint behind his teeth. When he grins at the mirror, they even _look_ cleaner.

Unsure of what to do with the empty vial, he rinses it out well and leaves it on the edge of the sink, licking his teeth thoughtfully before he rejoins Emma in the hallway. "That was amazing," he admits. "In my village, we used a crushed herb paste and water. I didn't realize there were so many different types of magics."

She laughs warmly and squeezes his shoulder. "Within the general classes, there are so many different types of magic that, if you have the skill and aptitude for the craft, anything is possible," she explains. "Tok and another soldier by the name of Camish are both technically warding-class casters, but they've learned how to tinker with herbs and medicines to make a collection of potions and pastes that can do a wide array of things; like the recovery drinks, and the cleaning potions. Zula, the farmstead's main cook, has a low-level empathic magic that she uses while she cooks. She'll never be able to control an army or turn the tide of a battle, but she can make sure we feel rejuvenated and happy after every meal, no matter what it is."

Emma talks while they walk, the stairs creaking and groaning beneath his bare feet. Genki lets his fingers drag along the wall, feeling the magic sunk deep into the wood and plaster react to his touch. He recognizes Tok's signature and can't help but smile when ribbons of the warder's blue magic reach out to twine with his own green.

His smile vanishes when they walk into the dining room and he sees the Lieutenant waiting at the table. There's foods Genki has only ever heard of; plates piled high with sizzling sausages, stacks of thick, fluffy pancakes -- there's even a glass jug of _syrup._ It's a feast for someone like him, and he pauses in the archway, unable to do anything but stare until Emma gives him a gentle nudge. He startles at the contact, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste to take a seat.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, hiding his blush in the crook of his arm. "I just… it's just a lot. Good morning, Sir. I hope you slept well?"

"As well as one can in this situation," the Lieutenant replies, his lips twitching as he watches Genki try to gather himself into something even remotely confident and calm. "How are you feeling after yesterday? You gave us quite a fright, overexerting yourself like that."

"I'm sorry," Genki whispers, plucking at his napkin nervously. "I didn't mean to worry anyone or cause problems, Lieute-"

"Just Sev is fine," the man cuts him off smoothly. "Or Sebastian. I know what I said yesterday," he adds, clearly able to read the confusion that paints itself across Genki's face. "But after the work you did on Gun, I'd say you've more than earned your keep. And, as Sergeant Pyrs has _firmly_ reminded me, you aren't a soldier. So the chain of command doesn't affect you the same way it does for the others. On top of that, reminders of authority seem to make you as flighty as a spring lamb." His severe expression doesn't change, but his words are kind enough. Still, the prod, gentle though it is, makes Genki flinch and look down at the napkin he's been slowly shredding on his lap.

"It-It's not so much that," he ventures, startling visibly when Emma steps up beside him and starts filling his plate. He hadn't even realized they'd been waiting on him to serve himself. "I come from a very small, very quiet village, and I lived alone aside from the stray animals I cared for. I never spent much time around people unless I was helping with fishing or healing someone. I guess I've just forgotten how social niceties work."

"Hang around Kash long enough and you'll get used to them again," Sebastian says wryly. "So your family members and friends weren't big on social gatherings, I take it?"

"Not really." Genki takes a bite of one of the sausage links and makes a high, shocked noise at the taste. As the flavor spreads across his tongue, he feels something warm and calming fill his chest. It spreads through him slowly, like being enveloped in a gentle blanket. His fingers tingle, his toes curl, and he smiles distractedly at the rest of the link still held between his fingers, watching the juice well up and drip onto his plate.

"Oh," he murmurs distractedly, licking grease from his lips; chasing the taste and the tingle he realizes belatedly is magic. Blinking, he looks at Emma and Sebastian, who are both watching him with amused understanding. "Is this… Did Zula make this?"

Emma smiles wider. "She did. Do you like it?"

Genki nods emphatically, eating the rest of the sausage and immediately going back for another. "It's very good. It makes me _feel_ good. So this is how her magic works?"

"To a degree." Sebastian is cutting his food into bite-sized portions and Genki pauses, his silverware forgotten in favor of using his hands to eat. He eyes his fork, then looks at Emma, who gives a subtle shake of her head and gestures for him to keep eating as he is. Feeling suddenly shy and self-conscious, he rips the pancake into smaller pieces and eats it that way.

"I told you that her ability is empathic, yes?" When Genki nods, Emma tilts her head toward the food. "She can imbue what she cooks with whatever feelings she wants thanks to her magic, but she can also influence people through touch. So, for instance, if soldiers come back from the battle grievously wounded, she can ease their distress and soothe them to sleep while the healers work."

Genki looks from her down to his plate, his eyes wide and full of awe. "That's incredible. There were a few families with empathic magic, but they were all much lower-level casters." The food tastes so good that he can't stop eating. He's abandoned what rudimentary table manners he does have in favor of tearing through the sausage links and thick slices of ham. He eats a small mountain worth of eggs, and most of the pancakes. Normally, he eats smaller meals, and since the village's main diet is fish, they didn't often eat other kinds of meat. They were fishermen, not hunters, and that suited them fine.

As far as Genki is concerned, this is a feast worthy of a naming ceremony.

Part of him recognizes that he's eating like a half-starved creature to replenish the energy and magic he used up on the Wolf. The replenishing drink and nearly sixteen hours of sleep did their part to build him back up; food will do the rest. He's grateful that neither Emma nor Sebastian try to stop him -- though, why would they? They're both proficient with battle magic. They know better than he does how much it takes to refill the metaphorical meter on their magic when it runs empty. They've no-doubt pushed their limits far more than he has.

"How's the Wolf?" he asks through a mouthful of pancake. Sebastian arches an eyebrow at the way he's hunkered over his plate, cradling it protectively to his chest, but the Lieutenant doesn't comment on his barbaric behavior, and for that, Genki is grateful.

"He ate his breakfast without fuss this morning, which is a miracle in and of itself." Sebastian stands to clear away his plate and mug, waving a hand at Genki when he freezes. "Eat, it's alright. I know you're hungry. You're going to need your strength. How many more sessions do you believe you will need in order to restore him to full health?" When Genki pauses, his gaze sharpens. _"Safely,_ young man. I did not have you brought here to watch you turn yourself into a husk. I will admit that I am most likely at fault for your foolish belief that you had to mend life-threatening wounds in one sitting. It's a blessing you didn't kill yourself, and it _will not_ happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Genki whispers. Sebastian stares him down a moment longer, looming formidably even from across the table before he finally nods. The crackling pressure of his swelling magic fades, and Genki feels like he can breathe again.

"How many sessions?" the Lieutenant repeats himself once he's returned from the kitchen.

"At least two, Sir." Setting down the pancake he's been tearing apart instead of eating, Genki glances toward the closest window and bites his lip. "Possibly three, depending on how far I get today."

Sebastian shakes his head. "Today you will be keying your signature into the main wards, as well as adding it to the wards around the pen. If you aren't too fatigued after that, I recommend getting yourself acquainted with the soldiers you will be spending your time with. I would prefer that you wait a few days before attempting to heal Gun again. He lasted this long before we found you, and you've taken care of the worst of his wounds already. He can wait a little longer."

"There's also the matter of the initiation," Emma adds, holding up the plate of sausages and waiting until Genki shakes his head. If he eats anymore, he's in danger of getting sick.

"Initiation?" Goddess, is there something _else_ they're going to make him do on top of healing the Wolf? He's not sure he can take it, if that's the case. Sebastian wants him to become familiar with the soldiers as it is, and just the thought of being surrounded by so many strangers makes panic churn in his stomach.

"Ah, yes, _that."_ The Lieutenant says it with such distaste that Genki squirms in his seat, his anxious fingers pulling the cuffs of his tunic -- which he's only now realizing isn't the one he was wearing yesterday. It isn't even the spare one he brought with him. It's linen, softened with age and pale cream in color; a little too big on him, but comfortable.

"There's a rite of passage that the older soldiers have come up with." Sebastian's dry, longsuffering tone snatches his attention away from his clothes, and Genki looks up to show he's paying attention. "It's something of a game for them. A way to initiate the new recruits into our ranks. They started it when Gun was first brought in, though back then I suppose they considered it a test of bravery. Now, it's become a way to test the mettle of the new soldiers."

"What does this have to do with me?" Genki asks nervously. He's not a soldier, Sebastian has already made that clear. So what does this test have to do with him?

"Every soldier adds their signatures to the wards when they join the platoon," the older man reminds him. "It strengthens our protections as well as making it so they can come and go without needing to be let in and out every time. This extends to Gun's pen.

"Senior soldiers have taken it upon themselves to test the bravery of the hopefuls." Filling a glass with juice from the pitcher, Sebastian pauses long enough to take a sip. "You aren't the only body that's been brought in recently. The recruits are already integrated, but with Gun incapacitated, they haven't been able to hold the initiation yet. Now that the Wolf is up and about, they'll probably do it sooner rather than later."

"What… What are they planning to do?" Genki has a bad feeling about this. He can't tell if he's more concerned for Gun, or more disturbed by Lieutenant Sev's bland, almost bored tone as he explains what this _rite of passage_ is.

"They'll send the recruits in to 'meet the monster,' so to speak." Panic flashes across Genki's face, filling his head with static, and Sebastian's hawk-like eyes catch it. "Gun cannot harm anyone without causing severe damage to himself," the man reminds him. Unsurprisingly, it does nothing to ease his anxiety. "Of course, the recruits don't know that. All they have to do is get close enough to touch the beast, and they pass."

"He's… He's not a _dog,"_ Genki sputters, his voice going up an octave. "He's not some side-show attraction!"

"That's _exactly_ what he is," Sebastian rumbles. The familiar pressure of his magic buzzes across the backs of Genki's hands and raises the hairs on his arms. "He is a dog of the military; a weapon to use as we see fit. Neither he nor the recruits are harmed during this little stunt. All it does is tell us who has the strength to stand on the battlefield while Gun does his job, and who won't make it past basic training."

It's a horrible test, but Genki knows when to bite his tongue. He doesn't like it, and he doesn't have to; his feelings don't matter in the grand scheme of things. All he's here to do is heal the Wolf when he gets injured, and heal the soldiers. Anxiety steals his voice, closing his throat around his unhappiness; it's all he can do to nod stiffly in the end.

The Lieutenant watches him for another long, silent moment, brown eyes burning through the side of his head. Finally, the man nods as well, accepting his acquiescence. "Let's get everything cleaned up and get you keyed in," he says. Genki stands and starts helping them clear away the dishes and pack up what little food is left to store in the ice chest. It hums with magic, the sleek metal cold to the touch, and even colder inside once they open the door.

"Come on," Emma coaxes once the table is wiped down and the dishes have been washed. The Lieutenant nods to them both and excuses himself before he leaves the room. Genki hears the heavy tread of his boots stop halfway down the back hallway; the quiet click of a door opening and shutting, followed by more muffled footsteps.

"Tok and Remy are the ones who are going to key your signature in," the Sergeant explains as she leads him outside. Genki follows silently, chewing the inside of his lip raw. "They're our top two warders. You've obviously already met Tok, and I promise, you'll like Remy. They're actually siblings."

They're actually _twins,_ Genki learns a few minutes later. Fraternal twins. Remy's face is slightly rounder than her brother's, her eyes more hazel than green, and she's a few inches shorter. Like Tok, her tunic is sleeveless, and her arms are covered in runes just like her brother. Her hair has been braided and twisted into a wide bun at the base of her skull. When she smiles, Genki notices that she's missing one of her top front teeth.

"Hey, honey," she says cheerfully, offering her palm. When Genki touches his knuckles to the rune there, cool blue magic twines across his fingers before dissipating. "I heard you pulled a damn good healing session off yesterday, even though you overdid it. Congratulations, kid. Consider me impressed."

"Ah, uh, thank you?" Pulling back, Genki rubs his hand, picking distractedly at the bed of his thumbnail. He offers Tok an awkward little wave, feeling slightly better when the man returns the gesture with a wide, boyish grin.

"Glad to see you up and moving around," Tok says, motioning for him to join them by the main entrance to the farmstead. "Honestly, I didn't think we'd see you until after supper. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Genki mumbles, ducking his head as he shuffles over to stand beside them. Emma pats him on the shoulder, hesitating when he flinches.

"Come find me when you're done and I'll show you around properly, alright?" Her voice is gentle and slow; pitched the same way Genki used to talk to an injured stray to let them know he wasn't a threat. It doesn't soothe him, not exactly; he manages a jerky nod and tries his best to offer her a strained smile. She's been nothing but kind to him so far; it's not her fault Genki isn't used to much physical contact from anything other than dogs and cats.

"Alright!" Remy claps her hands together once Emma is gone, and he doubts her sharp eyes miss the way he startles. "We can get started now. Genki, do me a favor and press your hand against the barrier. Anywhere is fine, just try to get as close to the gate as you feel you can."

"That's… it?" Turning, he focuses until his eyes strain and he can see the dozens upon dozens of signatures ribboned through the wards. There's a multitude of colors; he picks out Tok's blue fairly easily, and senses Kash's unique signature in the strands of ember-orange that flicker against his palm like tiny bolts of lightning when he presses his hand just beside the gate.

"Good. Now let out a ribbon of your magic," Tok instructs. Genki does so, letting out a soft sigh when his palm glows green. Tok's hand rests against the barrier just above his, the man's warmth just off-center from his right shoulder. On his other side, Remy's hand presses beside his, only a few inches of space between his thumb and her pinky.

The sensation of their magics overlapping his is peculiar, but Genki knows not to fight it. Tendrils of azure and ice blue weave into his green, guiding his magic into the center of the ward. He feels something that reminds him of a metaphysical door; when he closes his eyes, the image manifests behind them -- a thick oak door, the wood darkened by age and covered by of thousands of runes. In the center of the door is the lock, wide with an oddly-shaped keyhole. It reminds him of an upside-down pear, though the stem is elongated into a spiral.

Genki doesn't fight the pull, offering a little more magic as the twins guide him to the pear. He feels a nudge and understands, separating himself from them and letting his magic flow into the lock until it's filled with warm, glowing green.

Just like yesterday, he hears and feels an echoing click behind his right ear. His magic flares brighter, nearly blinding him, and then suddenly vanishes. He can feel himself in the wards now though, a strange overlap of the grass beneath his feet and the entire compound within the protective dome his magic is now a part of; all the way down to the Wolf's pen, just within reach but not quite touching.

"Very good," Remy praises, guiding him back with her voice. "That was way easier than with some of the others. Have you done something like this before, kid?"

Genki waits for the image of the door to dissipate before he opens his eyes. "Not really. Wards back home were nothin' like this," he murmurs.

"You got a damn good ability there, sea boy." Remy claps him on the shoulder, clicking her tongue when he twitches. "Easy does it, colt. I'm not gonna hurt you. Come on; let's get you keyed into the pen, and then you're good to go."

"We'll get you something to eat from Zula before giving you back to the Sergeant," Tok adds as they start making their way across the yard. There are soldiers clustered in small groups scattered everywhere; most of them wave and call out greetings that Tok and Remy return, while Genki tries to make himself look small and unnoticeable where he's walking between them. He knows it doesn't work, but thankfully, none of the soldiers seem to take offense.

"Not good with people, are you?" Remy muses. "It's alright if you aren't, you know. Not everyone is gonna be."

"Small village," Genki explains weakly. "I kept mostly to myself unless they needed me for something. I wasn't the only one. We all got along well and worked together to do what needed done, but there wasn't…" He trails off, unsure of how to put it into words.

"It wasn't like Kash's home," Tok guesses with a rueful grin. "Makes sense. Our family was pretty affectionate, and so was the rest of our village, but Kash takes it to the next level. It can be pretty overwhelming if you aren't used to it."

"It's not _bad,"_ Genki says quickly, feeling another swell of anxiety crest at the thought that he's offended this man, who is very clearly friends with Kash. "I'm just not used to it. It's going to take some adjusting to."

"That makes sense." Remy gives him an understanding smile before her eyes jump forward and she whistles, sharp and sudden; Genki flinches and nearly trips over Tok, who catches him easily and helps support him until he finds his footing again.

"Well, well. Look who came out to say hello."

Genki looks up -- and then up, and up, his breath hitching in surprise when he realizes the Wolf is standing at the gate of his pen, those fathomless eyes locked on him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT. I MANAGED TO DO THE THING. FWEEEE.
> 
> *faceplants*

Even from a distance, Genki can tell that the Wolf already looks so much better. His fur is still in desperate need of a good scrubbing, but his movements are nowhere near as stiff, and those fathomless eyes are bright. The creature watches them approach with all the poise and regality of a King, his head lifted proudly and his posture casual without being careless. Like any of the strays Genki used to befriend, he's excellent at guarding his vulnerable points without being obvious about it.

"He-ey there, Gunner," Remy calls, her wide, crooked grin hitching a little higher. "How ya feelin' today, buddy?"

The Wolf ignores her aside from an annoyed ear flick, his eyes still fixed unwaveringly on Genki as he approaches the gate. He moves a little quicker, leaving Remy and Tok to trail behind with similar expressions of amusement. Fear is a familiar flutter in his chest, but it's not as all-encompassing as it was just yesterday. He longs to reach up and touch the Wolf's face, and he can already feel the pressure of the wards he's pressing against -- a fizzing crackle across the nape of his neck warning him not to push his luck that he's forced to listen to.

"How are you feeling?" He steps far enough back for the danger to abate, earnest and twitching as his eyes skim what parts of the Wolf he can see. The deepest wounds will need a little more work, but it looks like a lot of the smaller scrapes and punctures have closed. As if sensing his desire to assess, the beast swings himself around to stand parallel to the fence, offering his sides and flanks while still watching Genki.

_You have a powerful gift,_ he allows, that echoing voice rumbling across the inside of his skull. It's almost powerful enough to make his teeth rattle. _However, your lack of self-preservation is highly concerning. You would willingly drain your life for an enemy you know nothing of? You truly are a foolish cub._

The disapproval is clear, but for whatever reason, Genki doesn't shrink away from the reproachful words or curl his shoulders meekly the way he usually would. Instead, he props his hands on his hips, thumbing the hemline of his tunic distractedly. "Maybe," he agrees sheepishly. "I'll do better from now on. It was my first time working on such a large patient." Eager to jump back into work, he takes a half-step closer. "Have you had enough to eat? The Lieutenant said they'd brought you breakfast, but are you still hungry? Once I'm keyed in, the wards won't be an issue. We can have another session, just you and me, and keep worki-"

_No._

Startled, Genki steps back again, searching the wolf's unreadable face with confusion. "No?" he repeats softly, doubt and uncertainty creeping across his mind and bringing down his mood. "Did I… Was it not adequate? Would you prefer they find someone else?"

The Wolf's expression shifts, and Genki isn't entirely sure, but he thinks the creature looks surprised. _No,_ he answers slowly, sitting back on his haunches. He's so _tall,_ massive enough to make even the tallest, broadest soldiers look diminutive in comparison. _No,_ he says again, his voice gentler. He lowers his head to look at Genki better, those furry ears twitching, and he has to tamp down on his sudden urge to reach out and stroke them. Even matted, the Wolf's fur looks like dark, rich velvet.

"Then why not?" Genki protests.

_You have been restricted from healing for the day,_ the creature reminds him, and he sounds _amused._ His nose wrinkles, and he snorts faintly at whatever expression crosses Genki's face. _You need time to recover, cub, or you truly will burn yourself to nothing. I will not have your death clouding my conscience, regardless of the differences between our kinds._

There's not much Genki can say to that, no matter how much he'd like to. He isn't given the chance to either way, because the siblings step forward on either side of him, one of Remy's arms slinging across his shoulders with an easy familiarity that startles him. He flinches, looking at the woman with wide eyes, and tries not to shrug her off out of reflex in case it offends her.

Remy is clearly smart though, and good at reading people. She squeezes his shoulder soothingly and lets her arm fall back to her side. "This one's easy, I promise," she says, holding out her hand. "You holding up alright so far? Don't need a break?"

Genki shakes his head, looking up and meeting the wolf's dark blue-green eyes again. He shifts his gaze just slightly off-center, dropping his eyes to the bridge of that wide, black muzzle so as not to come off as challenging. For a moment, he forgets they're supposed to be doing something; startles when Remy clears her throat patiently and reaches out to drop his hand on her expectant palm with a guilty, jerking fumble.

"I'm sorry!"

"No harm," she forgives him easily, drawing a small, ornate dagger from a sheath he hadn't even noticed hanging at her hip. "Like I said, this one's easy," the warder continues. On his other side, Tok is humming a low, warbling tune. "I'm going to cut your thumb. Press it to the fence and offer your signature through the wound."

"Blood magic?" Genki has never done a _blood_ ritual before. He's only vaguely heard of them, the same as so many older and archaic teachings that reached his village as fantastical myths and legends. Anxiety makes his stomach clench, and from the corner of his eye he sees the Wolf's nostrils flare.

"It strengthens the wards," Remy explains, turning his hand to touch the pad of his thumb. "It's entirely safe, Genki, I promise."

_You can trust her._

Surprised by the unexpected words of encouragement, he nods and swallows thickly. "Alright, then. I'm ready."

Remy eyes him curiously, tilting her head just a little before she finally nods. "Quick pain," she warns, and Genki braces himself. It's not unlike catching himself with a shark hook, the pain sharp and sudden but easy to push past. He lets Remy guide his hand to the runes carved into the fence, his blood dark and tinged a faint, glowing green as he follows her earlier instructions and lets his magic drip free.

_I guess that really is blood,_ he muses, watching his own mix with what's already been left behind. He's fascinated by the way the wet red droplets follow the whorls and swirls of the symbols in a way that wouldn't be possible without his magic to guide it. Not unlike what had happened with the main wards, he feels something similar to a crudely-made stone door crack open somewhere in his chest. Dozens of signatures flow across his, guiding him through, and he feels the defenses of the wards shudder and then settle as soon as they accept him. The pressure vanishes, and he's able to lean over the top rung and reach for the watching Wolf with a smile.

"Now I can visit you whenever I want!" he says. The tiny slice is already healed over, though there's still a trail of blood running down the side of his thumb. The Wolf leans in, tilting his head to lick his hand clean with an unexpected curl of his broad, pink tongue. Genki falters, not having expected that. Anxious happiness writhes to life in his chest. Has the creature accepted him? Is this a sign of affection? Will he tolerate Genki's presence now?

_You truly are a strange cub._ The Wolf says it like he's not entirely sure how he's supposed to take Genki, those sharp eyes digging deep beneath his skin to find the core of who he is. Plenty of people have looked at Genki in plenty of different ways -- even more so now that he's come to this place. His clear discomfort and fawn-flighy newness has definitely attracted the attention of those who arrived before him. None of those curious stares make him feel _this_ bare, however, and he shies away, his shoulders jumping up to his ears and his eyes quickly finding a clump of grass to focus on.

"Ah, I'm just, uh." Licking his lips, he tries to laugh and can only wince at how strangled it sounds. "Well, um. I should leave you alone to rest. I'll see you later, okay?" He tries to plaster a convincing grin in place, hating that he can feel his hands trembling at his sides. "Have a good day!"

_That was not phrased as a shortcoming._

Genki doesn't know how he's supposed to respond to that, an ache clawing through his tightening chest that robs him of a voice to respond with. All he can do is nod again, offering one last weak, "I'll see you later," before he turns and flees with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa!"_

Big, dark hands catch him before he's gotten too far, and Genki's head snaps up, wet eyes meeting Kash's easygoing grin. It doesn't last once the fighter sees his face, the man's mirth twisting to a worried frown. A rough thumb rubs across his cheek, wiping away the moisture beneath his eye.

"What's wrong, kid? What happened?" His voice is careful and caring, his body warm compared to the chill of anguish and bubbling tears that makes Genki sway closer before he can stop himself.

"I think Gun said something to him," Remy offers, her footsteps nearly silent as she comes up behind Genki and lays a hand over his nape. "He was all bubbly and excited, like a puppy, and then suddenly he was haulin' ass lookin' like he'd been gutted."

"That right?" A broad hand buries itself in his wayward hair and strokes. "What'd the furball say, Genki?" Kash asks, lifting his head with a finger beneath his chin when he tries to duck away and hide. He shakes his head, and the fighter clicks his tongue. "Come on, kiddo, he clearly said somethin' to ya. Did he threaten you?"

"No!" They're too close to the pen still, too close to those fathomless deep-sea eyes. All Genki wanted was to be here an hour ago, and now he'd rather be anywhere else, trying to tug himself away from all of the hands touching him so he can _leave._ It's too much, they're too close, and he knows they mean well, but he needs to _breathe._

"Let's go see what Zula is making for lunch," Tok suggests. Genki wipes at his eyes as soon as the others back off, trying to take deep, steadying breaths despite how much it hurts. Kash squeezes his elbow, offering comfort he isn't sure how to accept.

"I'm okay," he mumbles, pressing the cuffs of his tunic sleeves into the corners of his eyes until the pain and discomfort distracts him from his own churning emotions.

"And I'm Sev's firstborn," Kash retorts, but it's so outlandish that it manages to win a watery chuckle from Genki. "There he is," the soldier murmurs more gently, bumping their foreheads together like a cat showing affection. "You're alright, Genki. Just keep breathin' for me, alright?"

Genki nods and allows them to herd him across the farmstead, resisting the urge to look back at the eyes that still bore into him like a physical weight. The Wolf's presence is so all-encompassing, so powerful. Even all the way across the yard, Genki can still feel it, but it's easier for him to focus on the twins and Kash, listening to them chat idly about whatever comes to mind.

At the corner of the squat, one-story building Genki knows from smell and memory is the kitchen, a commotion catches their attention. It's coming from inside the building and spilling out from the door that's been left propped open. Several soldiers are quick to scramble out onto the grass, followed by the shortest person Genki has ever seen.

"Kash, if you're causin' trouble again, boy, I'm cookin' your haunches for dinner!" she threatens, brandishing a gravy-covered ladle at them before she's even turned in their direction.

"Mama Zula, I would _never!"_ the man in question protests with an overdramatic gasp. He even goes as far as to clutch at his bare chest, playing up his innocence with a wink at Genki that ruins everything. The way his mouth pulls into a rougush, lopsided smirk does nothing to help his case.

The woman -- Zula, if Kash is to be believed -- finally turns toward them fully, and her shrewd, dark brown eyes land on Genki immediately. Like a switch being flipped, her entire demeanor changes in an instant, every inch of her becoming soft and motherly as she bustles toward them. She barely comes up to Genki's waist, her brown hair streaked through with gray; she's pulled it back into a messy bun at the base of her skull. She's got age-lines and crow's feet, but the yellow magic that flows from her fingertips as soon as she lays her hand on his arm feels youthful.

"There, there, dear," she murmurs, tugging him down until she can cradle his face in her palms, the hard wooden handle of the dripping ladle warm against his cheek. The gravy smells heavenly enough to make his stomach rumble, and Zula laughs heartily when she hears it.

"H-hello," Genki stutters, his eyes wide. He's bent nearly in half, letting her turn his head this way and that while she examines him. The warmth of her magic spreads through him, wiping away his anxiety as soon as it can manifest and leaving behind a sense of peace. His twitching muscles settle and release all at once, and the woman braces him easily when he slumps against her, though she makes a disapproving noise in his ear as she does it.

"What have they been _feedin'_ you, baby? Mash?" she tuts, stroking his hair and touching his sides to feel his ribs beneath his tunic. "No, no, this is unacceptable. You come inside, sweet thing. You let Mama Zula fix you somethin' nice, yeah? Come on, up you stand."

She nudges him gently, and Genki lifts his head with a muzzy, tired sound of confusion. Kash and Tok laugh as they step up to flank him on either side; both of them grab him under an arm and help him to stand upright.

"You bring him in now, Kash, don't you dawdle!" Zula orders sharply, and then she's leaving in a whirl of savory scents, her stained apron fluttering as she strides back inside.

"It gets easier, I promise," Kash tells him cheerfully, looping one of Genki's limp arms over his shoulders. He blinks blearily at the man, feeling more relaxed than he has in _days._ He can't help the contented smile that twitches across his lips, and he's happy that he doesn't sway like a drunkard as the four of them make their way into the kitchen, where he can already hear Zula clanging around as she searches for something.

The kitchen is dominated by two separate prepping tables that each stretch almost thirty feet. Overall, it's one giant room; ice chests regulated by magic, keeping food either chilled or frozen solid, take up the entire length of one of the walls. Herbs hang from the low ceiling as well as the edges of the tables, Genki notices -- probably so Zula can reach them better. One wall is marked by heavy-looking oven doors set into the brick. Another is lined with stoves, several of which boast various pots of things that all smell _incredible._ Genki has spent his life eating food that was always relatively bland in taste; spices weren't something that was readily available, and you can't really crave what you've never had before.

By the time they reach the first prep table, Genki can stand on his own, the sudden rush of endorphins stabilizing and leaving him smiling as he takes in the chaos going on around him. There are three people working aside from Zula; he sees curious looks thrown their way, but neither of the two other women, nor the man, stop what they're doing to come and chat. The man is chopping vegetables at a speed that Genki marvels at, his hands steady and confident and his knife a blur. One of the women is checking an oven at the far end of the kitchen while the other tastes something from one of the pots at the stoves, her frown deep and considerate.

"Here, baby, sit down."

Zula reappears to push him onto a stool Genki hadn't even noticed was there, and he's surprised by the strength in her limbs as she moves him exactly where she wants him with one hand. The other is balancing a plate full of chunks of meat liberally covered in a familiar-smelling, thick gravy. There's a mound of mashed potatoes and a green, tree-like vegetable he's never seen before.

"Broccoli," Remy offers, reading his uncertain confusion easily. She leans against the prep table beside him while Kash slinks away toward the ovens, his movements as fluid and graceful as the big cats Genki has caught glimpses of once or twice around the village, when they snuck in and tried to steal away with part of a catch. Tok moves to join the man who's still chopping, a knife already in his hand as he joins the larger soldier with his work.

"Less gawking, more eating," Zula reminds him, shoving a fork into his hand and propping her fists on her hips. She stares him down, leaving no room for protest, and only relaxes when he obediently takes a bite. He's spent the morning using of his magic, and it didn't feel like he'd expended that much of it, but he doesn't realize how _hungry_ he actually is until his teeth sink into that first, juicy chunk of meat. Remy laughs at the undignified noise he makes, trying to steal a stalk of broccoli off his plate until Zula smacks her on the back of the hand with her wooden spoon. The warder yelps and jumps out of reach, rubbing her knuckles with a sheepish grin.

"I just wanted a bite, Mama," she protests.

"You know the rules," Zula retorts sharply, looking not the least bit impressed or sympathetic. "You get'cher own plate and eat it, or ya work. Otherwise, you ain't got no business crowdin' my kitchen, young lady. Or stealin' this lamb's food. There's more'n enough ta go 'round. I won't have thievin'."

Remy's smile turns bashful, her cheeks faintly pink. "Yes, Mama. How's that freeze chest workin' for ya, hey? It doin' its job now?"

"Ain't had one issue since you and your brother tinkered," Zula replies with a wide smile that makes her look twenty years younger. Genki can't help but smile around a mouthful of broccoli while he looks at her; she reminds him a little of one of the elderly folk that helped raise him. It makes him nostalgic, and a little sad, and as soon as that sadness swells in his chest, a small hand pats his side.

Zula shakes her head at him. "No tears in my kitchen, baby," she says easily, the yellow glow of her magic warming him and chasing away everything but the happiness. "Sadness is a good, necessary thing," she continues, watching him eat with the intense focus of any cook wanting to make sure their meal is enjoyed. "It helps, when it's needed. But you carry too much in you, sweet thing. Don't worry; it's okay to let it go sometimes. No sense in lettin' it all pile up. Things get too cluttered that way."

She pats him again, motherly and affectionate, and Genki gives her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Mama Zula. I'll… I'll try to remember that."

"No rush, sugar. Novels don't get written in a day. You'll get there." She smiles at him, and then suddenly, like that same switch being flipped back, she spins on her heel and shouts across the kitchen.

"Ayrin! Kash! Get'cher damn greedy fingers out of my batter!"

The two jump, clearly caught, and even Genki flinches in surprise at the unexpected outburst. He stares at Remy with wide eyes while the tiny woman stalks over to the two culprits, waving her spoon in a way that comes across far more terrifying than it would have if Genki had tried to do the exact same thing.

"Like her?" the warder asks with a knowing grin. Genki nods emphatically, swiping his fingers through the leftover gravy and sucking them clean until his plate is more or less spotless. He feels so _full, and_ the magic of Zula's gift saturates her food just as strongly as it rolls off the woman herself. He's so relaxed that he can't help but laugh, carrying his dishes over to the massive sink and washing them quickly before anyone can stop him.

He and Remy are standing side by side, their shoulders pressed together and mugs of sweet pear juice sweating on the table in front of them, when Emma sticks her head into the kitchen. _"There_ you are!" she exclaims, looking relieved. "I've been looking all over the place for you!"

Genki blinks owlishly, feeling a flicker of confused uncertainty lick across the inside of his ribs. "Is something wrong?" he asks, turning his mug back and forth with fretful fingers before he brings it to his lips and drinks.

"You were supposed to come and find me when you were finished with the wards," the Sergeant reminds him, startling when Genki chokes on his juice. Remy slaps his back while he coughs and sputters, wiping his mouth and chin for him while he hangs onto the edge of the table and panics.

"I'm so sorry!" he chokes out between bouts of coughing and wheezing. "I completely forgot!"

"We had to make a quick change of plans," Remy says, taking over smoothly. Her hand rubs warm, soothing circles between his shoulders. "He's all keyed in and ready to go. We just needed to get him a quick bite." He watches the soldiers exchange a look he doesn't know how to interpret, and before he can ask, Zula is bearing down on them again.

"Now what have you done?" she demands, pointing an accusing finger at Emma, who suddenly looks a lot more nervous. Her other hand cups Genki's cheek, and once again, his mounting anxiety trickles away, evaporating like harmless mist. He's so grateful he could hug her, but she's clearly more focused on Emma.

"It was an accident, Zula," the soldier says earnestly, her hands up in a gesture of appeasement. "I'm meant to be showing Genki the rest of the camp today, and introducing him to everyone. The trio just gave him a bit of a head start by bringing him here."

Hands back on her hips, Zula scowls up at Emma, no less intimidating despite the fact that her eyes are level with the woman's navel. "Now, you listen to me," she warns, and Emma nods quickly, giving the cook her undivided attention. "Don't you overwhelm this boy more than you and Sebastian already have. This ain't his world, Emmaleine. He didn't sign up for this the way the rest of us did. Be _careful._ Sebastian is used to soldiers. He's not used to pieces that can break easily. And Genki, don't you dare go being ashamed of that." Those piercing eyes turn his way, and he swallows audibly. Emma looks like she's just been smacked with one of the heavy pans hanging on the wall.

"I'll keep him safe," she promises.

"We all will," Remy adds, tugging Genki against her side and giving him a quick, affectionate squeeze that makes him stammer and blush. He's never been anyone's center of attention; never wanted to be anyone's responsibility to worry over. Once he was old enough to take care of himself, he always made sure he wouldn't burden the villagers who's helped raise him to that point. It made their lives easier, and it let him focus and do what he needed to do.

"Genki." Zula's gentle voice soothes the anxiety burbling at the back of his throat, and he looks at her, feeling sheepish and coltish from nerves.

"You have a precious soul, and a precious gift, and above all, you have a precious heart. Don't let anyone take that from you."

Letting out a quick, shaky breath, he nods in understanding, even if he doesn't entirely get what, exactly, it is that she's trying to say.

"Thank you, Mama Zula. I won't."

She smiles widely and pats his hand, her own so much smaller than his, wrinkled and gnarled from a life of work and age.

"Welcome to the family, baby. Whenever you're hungry, you come find me. Mama Zula will take care of you."

Leaning down, he pulls her into a tight hug, breathing in the scents that cling to her tunic; feeling the strength in her arms when she hugs him back and strokes his hair.

"Thank you," he whispers, packing as much into those two words as he can because he has no other way to express everything swirling and building in his chest right now.

From the way she hugs him just a little tighter and presses a warm kiss to his cheek, he knows she's understood him just fine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's THIS? ANOTHER CHAPTER? SO SOON???? HNNNGGGHH??????
> 
> Ahahaha what is sleep.
> 
> I love Genki. He's such a sweet, absolute darling.
> 
> I also love watching trust grow between people. It's such a beautiful sight.
> 
> All mistakes are my own.
> 
> HAVE FUN KIDDOS.

It's dusk by the time Emma herds Genki back toward the house, physically guiding him between the buildings with a hand on his shoulder. His head is still reeling, crammed full of more information than any one person should be capable of remembering. He's met so many people -- soldiers, scouts, and even other non-combatants like him and Mama Zula, who provide support throughout the camp but are never expected to heal or fight. He's met fighters, warders, sweepers, healers, growers -- nearly as wide a variety of magics and skills as the people, and for Genki, it's all _so_ _much._

"I really don't mind sharing space with the other healers, really," he protests faintly, not for the first time. There's a headache growing behind his eyes, and his nerves are all but shot. Everyone is so loud and _welcoming._ He's given more formal greetings in one day than he has in the entirety of his life; has received so many handshakes and shoulder slaps that his skin feels tight all across his body, his anxiety snapping and writhing beneath the surface.

"I told you," Emma says easily, her reply cheerful despite how many times she's had to tell him the exact same thing. "Your role here is different, Genki. You aren't classified as one of the soldiers, so your accommodations aren't going to mirror theirs."

"This feels like favoritism." He doesn't want to be singled out regardless of why he's here, and that's exactly what this feels like. No one gave him that feeling, exactly, but there's a difference between playing nicely in front of a superior officer and speaking freely out of their presence.

"Are you hungry?" Emma changes the conversation without giving him an answer, and Genki shakes his head. His stomach feels like a mass of rocks knotted together. If he tries to eat now, he's just going to throw it all back up.

"No, but… May I have some water? My head hurts."

They're on the porch, the wood still sun-warmed beneath his feet even though the sun is setting. Emma pauses at his mumbling and looks him over with an assessing stare that makes him shrink away and duck his head.

"There's potions in the pantry, in the kitchen," she says after a moment, her voice a gentle murmur. "Genki, if it was too much, you should have said something."

He lets her lead the way into the house, and he immediately shivers at how much cooler it is inside as opposed to out in the yard. It's easy enough to find the kitchen now, memory leading him to the left of the staircase that dominates the front hallway; through the tastefully-designed formal sitting room where he first met Sebastian, passing beneath a doorless archway that connects the rooms, and then into the kitchen itself. Immediately to his left is a ten foot long cupboard with a set of folding doors that open to reveal the dry pantry. Emma shows him the shelves of potions that take up a quarter of the space, all of them neatly labeled so there's no way of getting anything mixed up. She pulls a small vial from a section labeled _bodily aches_ and offers it to him. The liquid inside is pink, and glowing faintly; just holding it eases some of the tension in his shoulders.

"I would like to learn how to make these," he admits quietly, working the cork free and drinking the potion down in two quick swallows.

"I'm sure Becka and Alek will be happy to teach you," Emma offers as he goes to rinse the vial clean in the sink. He can already feel the pain easing, and sighs quietly in relief. "They're wonderful teachers."

"I'll ask them," he says, even though right now he can barely even remember who they are or what they look like. All the names and faces have blurred together in his mind; it's enough to make him dizzy. Exhaustion settles into the corners of his eyes, tugging stubbornly at his mind and body. Crawling into bed sounds heavenly right now, and if he's lucky, it won't take him long to get to sleep at all.

Emma must be able to see it, because she takes the vial and cork from him and sets them in the drying rack before giving him one last nudge. "Go to sleep, Genki. Tomorrow is going to be another long day, unfortunately, but things should start to settle down within a week or two. It's just because you're a new recruit. You'll get into a routine soon enough."

"Yeah," he manages around a yawn that's wide enough to make his jaw pop. "I'm just gonna…" He trails off and rubs at his eyes. "G'night, Emma."

"Good night, Genki."

The kitchen and dining room are separated by a wide archway, but there's another doorway just before he reaches the dining room that leads back to the front door through a narrow hallway. There's a closet set into the wall, and at the end of the hallway is the room opposite of the sitting room. There's nothing more than a long, wide table surrounded by chairs, with things pinned to walls and boards he can't make out -- not that he's particularly interested in trying, right now. His bed is calling him, and he's got no intention of delaying the sleep he's so desperately looking forward to.

Thank the Goddess he remembers which room is his; he'd die of mortification if he walked into the Lieutenant's room, even if it was by accident.

Closing the door behind him, Genki leans back against it and closes his eyes. For a moment, the sea of faces rushing behind his eyelids settles and morphs, becoming a broad, black muzzle and unreadable eyes. He frowns, biting at his lip at the accompanying flicker of _hurt_ that follows the image of the Wolf's regal face. He can't begin to say _why_ it bothers him so much. It's not even as though he said something all that bad. Genki has definitely had people say far more cruel things to him. Maybe it was the way he'd looked at Genki after calling him _strange,_ like the Wolf could see everything else he's always managed to hide away.

_Someone that dangerous… He isn't safe. You can't be his_ friend. _What the hell are you thinking, Gink?_

He can almost hear Grandmother's voice scolding him, and he groans quietly. "I just," he whispers helplessly to the empty room, but even then -- he just _what?_ "I'm not them," he admits to no one, hugging himself and dropping his head. "I don't want to _be_ them. I don't want him to think I'm _them."_

_What does it matter what he thinks?_ That sounds like Sebastian's voice, and Genki grits his teeth, picking at his thumb until the cuticle stings and leaks blood.

_He is_ not _just a weapon._

Weapons don't have feelings. Weapons are cold _things._ The Wolf clearly has strong emotions, and a very, very valid reason for hating the people who have imprisoned him and decided to use him to murder his own kind. Refusing to heal his injuries was like a cry for help, a _please don't make me do this_ that no one listened to. Sebastian clearly doesn't care whether his weapon -- his _Gun_ \-- accepts the role he's been handed or not.

And now Genki has been dragged into it, found by sweepers who weren't even looking for someone like him. With one final, gusty sigh, he strips his tunic off and folds it messily, setting it on top of his empty chest of drawers. It stayed fairly clean today, so wearing it tomorrow shouldn't be an issue. He'll have to talk with Emma about acquiring more clothes, but what little he has will do for now.

Leaving his breeches on, he crawls into bed, dropping his head onto the pillow. He squirms until he's tugged his blanket out from beneath his hips, watching the faintly-visible stars twinkle outside the window with his unobstructed eye.

Sleep comes slowly, creeping across his mind at a snail's crawl that he submits to eagerly. The world blurs before he shuts his eyes, his blanket keeping him from getting too cold; his room is as cool as the rest of the house, but that's alright; he's never been a fan of being too hot while he sleeps.

It's always better to be colder at night -- you can add more covers, but you can only take away so much.

A scream shatters his peace, and Genki bolts upright with a gasp, the fragments of sleep swept away in the face of cold, startled fear. It's coming from outside, from _within the camp,_ and he moves on pure instinct.

Throwing his blanket aside, he rushes out the door, scrambling down the dark hallway and taking the stairs two at a time. He barrels through the front door, leaving it wide open behind him, but he doesn't bother pausing to shut it. Someone is still screaming, and he can hear more voices now.

There's a cluster of people around the Wolf's pen, and Genki hadn't heard it at first over all the yelling, but he hears it now.

It's a savage snarl, something wild and furious and _terrifying._ It's a sound he's only ever heard a cornered creature make; a feral stray ready and willing to go in for the kill to keep itself safe.

Sprinting across the yard, Genki forces his way through the cheering soldiers, stumbling up against the fence with a gasp once he's through. He feels the wards swell and crackle with agitation, sweeping over his body to assess his status before retreating once he's recognized. He takes a moment to grip the top rung and catch his breath, staring wide-eyed into the pen and taking in the scene with mounting, blood-chilling dread.

There's a body pinned beneath the Wolf's gigantic bulk, arms crushed by paws bigger than the person's _torso._ Black lips have peeled back to bare dripping fangs and startlingly pink gums; his ears are flat against his skull, his eyes narrowed to slits. His long body is hunched, his tail raised and stiff. As they all watch on, he cracks those gleaming fangs apart and _bellows_ at the human he's forcing into the dirt. It's a sound Genki has never heard come from an animal's throat before -- but that's the thing, isn't it? The Wolf _isn't_ an animal. He's _intelligent,_ he's _sentient,_ and these people are treating him like nothing more than a side-show attraction. Something to break up the boredom and monotony of their days.

Heaving himself over the fence, Genki stumbles toward the Wolf, crying out to try and get his attention. Someone grabs his wrist and yanks him back, and when he turns to see who it is, he doesn't recognize the man's name _or_ his face.

"It's tradition," he grunts, like that's a reasonable _excuse_ here. For a moment, Genki gapes at him, too stunned to speak. The man jerks his head, thinking he's made his point, and all Genki can do is pull his wrist free with a sharp jerk.

"It's _barbaric,"_ he replies, his voice shaking. Turning his back on the soldier, he hurries to the Wolf's side, reaching out to touch the powerful, tense shoulder and flinching when those formidable teeth snap at empty air.

"It's me," he whispers soothingly, stroking the matted fur with a glowing palm. His magic sinks in eagerly, knowing there's work to be done; recognizing its patient and rushing to heal the injuries it couldn't mend before.

_You are meant to be resting, foolish cub._

The noise Genki makes is weak and relieved, his knees threatening to give out. He leans harder against the creature's side to keep himself upright, breathing in his wild, musky scent. "It's hard to do that when everyone is carrying on like children," he mutters. "Please… please let him go. Please."

He feels muscles shift and ripple as the Wolf presses down harder, and for several anxiety-heavy heartbeats, Genki is afraid he's not going to listen. His sides vibrate with one more deep rumble, and then, finally, he steps away. The soldier yelps, his chest stuttering, and Genki drops down beside him to make sure he's unharmed.

"Are you alright?" he asks hurriedly. "Does anything feel broken?"

The man is young, possibly Genki's age, give or take a year or two. His dark hair is swept back thanks to his position, several strands clinging to his cheeks and forehead. His features are Western, angular and harsh; his lips twist into a gritted sneer when he meets Genki's wide, searching gaze.

"Ger'off me," he snarls, a heavy hand slapping Genki's chest and shoving him back. "Fuck, I though' 'e were gon' break mah fuckin' ribs. Hell's _wrong_ wit' th' fuckin' mongrel?" He's grumbling to himself as he sits up, rolling his shoulders carefully and feeling his chest with thick, probing fingers. "Oi!" he shouts, the aggressive anger in his voice making Genki flinch away. "Though' y'all said 'e couldn' do no fuckin' damage!"

"Looks like he found a loophole," another soldier calls back -- the one who had tried to stop Genki. A chorus of laughs go up, and he clenches his hands into shaking fists, staring at them all in disbelief.

"This really is just a game to you," he whispers, his words trembling so much it's a wonder he didn't stutter. The man beside him barks out a derisive scoff, lumbering to his feet and cracking his neck.

"'Course it is," he drawls, glaring down at Genki. He's clearly unimpressed by what he sees, even though _he'd_ been the one pinned beneath the Wolf and screaming just five minutes ago. "S'a tradit'n 'ere, ain' it?"

His point made, he turns his back on Genki and strides back toward the fence, his head high and his shoulders squared. A cheer ripples across the crowd, and Genki sees several hands reach out to help the soldier swing himself back out of the pen.

Behind Genki, the Wolf watches, silent and radiating anger that burns the back of his throat like ash. "What is wrong with you?" he whispers. He's still shaking, anger spiking right along with his anxiety in the face of such careless, cruel _injustice._

"What is _wrong with you?"_ he screams, and _this_ time, they hear him. The laughter fades slowly, nearly two dozen heads turning in his direction. It's bright out tonight, and there's enough light from the nearby barracks for Genki to see their eyes gleaming in the dark; the harsh shadows that turn their faces severe.

"Oi, newbie."

It's the soldier that stopped him, stepping toward and leaning against the fence. He's old enough to rival Sebastian in age, his face lined heavily and his gray-black hair sheared close to his skull on the sides.

"You got an issue with th' way we do shit 'round here, fresh meat?" Genki catches the irritated curl of his lip and swallows, trying to gather a courage he's never really had in order to reply without his voice shaking.

"I do," he replies, and several men and women bark out harsh, mocking laughs. He catches sight of Kash in the crowd, recognizing his bare chest and the dark sprawl of runes over his skin. The man's arms are crossed and his face hidden entirely in shadow. Genki looks away, feeling a nauseous mixture of disappointment and nerves churning in his stomach.

"Then stay inside an' leave us to our fun." The soldier spits, hitting a patch of grass several feet inside the pen. "Ain't no harm in blowin' of a bit of steam, is there? In case you ain't noticed, cupcake, there's a goddamn war goin' on. We're entitled to a bit of stress relief every now and then."

"So read a book," Genki snaps, appalled by such callous disregard for the life and feelings of a sentient being, regardless what form they choose to stand in. Pulling himself to his feet, he lifts his head and spreads his feet, making it clear that he's putting himself between them and their target.

"I don't care _what_ tradition you've been playing along with so far," he continues, staring at each of them in turn. "He may not be human, but he's still a _life._ Would you torture a dog this way? He's got a _mind._ He's not some random animal for you to kick and get mad at when he snaps back!"

"Careful there, fresh meat," the man growls in warning. "You're soundin' mighty sympathetic of the fleabitten _curs_ that kill us f'r _sport."_

"And, what, we don't kill them too?" Genki yells back, gesturing angrily at the wide open plains that stretch out around the farmstead. "Each side has their reason. That doesn't mean you can act like _savages!"_

"What's it matter to you!" someone shouts in the crowd, and several others jeer and yell similar sentiments, slinging them maliciously at Genki. He thinks he hears someone call him a _Wolf-fucker_ and tries his best not to let his fear show on his face.

"My name is Genki," he says, speaking quietly but slowly getting louder as the rowdy soldiers settle again. "I've met most of you already, and maybe this isn't the best introduction, but that's fine." He raises his hands and lets his writhing magic spill from his heated palms, casting a wide circle of glowing green light around himself. "I'm your newest healer. Though, I suppose it would be more accurate to say I'm _his_ healer." He points at the Wolf waiting behind him, and feels the ground tremble when the creature rumbles.

"My entire job here is to make sure he's fit and healthy enough to keep _your_ ungrateful asses alive during a battle. I'll also be working alongside the other healers to keep many of you alive. If you'd rather bleed to death than accept my help when the time comes, that's entirely your choice, and I will respect it. _However."_ He takes a deep breath, aware that his raised voice is echoing across the camp; the soldiers are silent now, staring at Genki like they've never seen anything like him.

"While this Wolf is in my care, I _will not_ stand for _anyone_ agitating him or treating him like he's a toy left here for your personal amusement. If you don't like that, frankly, I don't give a _fuck._ He is _my_ responsibility, after Lieutenant Sebastian. If I see anyone lingering around this pen that isn't one of his pre-authorized handlers, I _will_ handle it. Do I make myself clear?"

No one says anything for a while. Genki is shaking, but after _that,_ he can't afford to lose ground. Clenching his jaw, he glares at them all until the senior soldier lets out a rough, impressed laugh.

"Damn, newbie." He whistles. "Got a bit of fire in that soft body, don'cha? Tha's adorable." And with that, he turns and strolls away, still laughing to himself. As if his departure has broken whatever spell has kept everyone else rooted in place, everyone else follows suit, until it's just Kash staring at him from across the fence.

"Do you even know how to defend yourself?" he asks, his voice heavily laced with amusement. He relaxes with his arms draped over the top rung of the fence, his grin wide and lopsided.

"What does it matter if I do?" Genki asks, his knees finally giving out now that he's not the center of attention with something to prove. He curls in on himself, gasping for breath. Nausea creeps up his throat, his stomach twisting and lurching like he's standing on the deck of a storm-caught ship. He's shaking from nerves as well as the cold, his magic unsuitable for keeping him warm the way Kash's does.

"Yeah… That's what I figured," he hears the fighter say with a light chuckle. "I think we're gonna hafta fix that, baby boy, if you're gonna go makin' declarations like that to _those_ grizzled old cats."

Genki is about to snap out a retort, something half aggravated and half hysterical, when a wet nose presses against the center of his spine and he freezes reflexively. He sees Kash tense up as well, his fingertips glowing like embers, but Genki doesn't feel afraid. Maybe he should, but he _doesn't,_ because the Wolf has a collar, doesn't he? Aside from that, he just knows, in a way he isn't sure how to explain even to himself, that the Wolf has no intention of hurting him.

"I'm sorry I spoke for you," he murmurs, turning slowly on his knees to look up into that broad, inhuman face. "I just… I couldn't just let it go."

_There is no need for apologies from you, cub._ The Wolf steps closer, his nose slipping over Genki's pounding heart and leaving a cool, wet trail on his chilled skin. He shivers, realizing just how cold he is for the first time now that he's not distracted with screaming at a group of people who could probably kill him in at least fifty different ways without breaking a sweat.

"Oh _Goddess,"_ he moans, his breath hitching, and suddenly the Wolf is even closer. He's all around Genki, warm fur brushing over every inch of his exposed skin. There's a thump that makes the ground shake, and then a massive head is nudging at him; guiding him into laying against a wide, _warm_ flank. Genki burrows closer immediately, reminded of _home,_ where his bed at night was never without at least three extra warm, furry bodies.

Pressing his face into the Wolf's side, he wheezes weakly, recognizing the panic attack and desperately seeking comfort. Something to focus on to snap him out of it. He settles on the creature's breathing, forcing himself to inhale and exhale along with the Wolf until his chest loosens and his throat opens up again. Something thick and bushy drapes across his muddy knees -- _tail,_ he thinks distractedly -- and he buries a hand into it with only a moment of hesitation, stroking with jerky, twitching fingers.

Slowly, so slowly, the world sets itself to rights and his vision stops blurring. There's tears on his cheeks and his chest is wet, but that's not unusual for him. What _is_ unusual is the feeling of the nose that's buried itself in his hair, nosing through the unkempt blonde tufts and snuffling curiously. It _tickles,_ and he can't help his wet, warbling giggle when a hot breath gusts behind his ear and flutters the hairs there.

_Are you feeling better now, cub?_

"Yes," he rasps, wincing at how rough his voice sounds. Was he crying that badly? He can't remember. "I… Mostly," he amends guiltily, hiding his face against the Wolf's coarse fur and petting over his hip without thinking about it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry all over you. Guess I really am a useless cub." His chuckle is bitter. The Wolf takes a slow, drawn-out breath, and Genki flinches in surprise when he feels the unexpected drag of a tongue across his nape.

_You have a mighty heart, cub,_ the creature murmurs, and it's hard to tell, but he sounds _fond._ Fond, and a little bit awed. _You care deeply and passionately for others. You defended me, when you had no reason to do so. You are a curious one, little human. I am nothing but a weapon to them, but_ you… The tail lying over his legs curls closer to his stomach. _You see me as more than just the gun they call me._

"I'm not healing you because I want them to use you," Genki whispers, keeping his secret safe in the warm crook of the Wolf's armpit, pressing his face into the gap between that broad, deep chest and the strong front leg. It's warm, the Wolf's smell overwhelming, but it reminds him again of the strays he was forced to leave behind when he agreed to follow Emma to this place.

_I know you aren't,_ the Wolf replies. _It is in your nature to mend what is hurt, no matter the shape or form. There is no cruelty in you._

"I don't want to become like them."

At that, the Wolf laughs, the sound echoing in his mind and shaking the creature's sides with a rolling rumble that Genki can't help but think sounds similar to a cat's raspy purr.

_Oh, Genki._ It's the first time he's heard his name spoken like that -- the Wolf's voice makes it sound like so much _more._

_You won't, little one. You'll never be anything but_ you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genki is an absolutely precious lamb, and according to Law, he must suffer before he is allowed to be happy.
> 
> Also I love introducing problem characters with chips the size of the Atlantic on their shoulders, so.
> 
> Please don't kill me.

_You're going to break your thumb if you punch someone like that._

Turning to stare at the Wolf, Genki flushes self-consciously and crosses his arms over his chest, half-hugging himself in an effort to help himself feel better and keep his growing anxiety from flaring any further. "What would you know about it?" he mutters, freeing up a hand and gesturing at the Wolf while Kash watches with a smirk. The twins are sitting on the fence watching their little one-on-one lesson, and he sees Remy cover her mouth to try and hide her amusement.

The Wolf snorts at him from where he's lying outside of his tent, basking in the sun and observing like a King overlooking his subjects. He certainly makes Genki _feel_ like a bumbling field hand.

_I do have a human body, Genki,_ he replies, highly amused.

Oh, that's right. Wolves _can_ shift to look exactly like people. That's how they managed to hide themselves for so long. "Well then, why don't _you_ shift back and show me?" It's an empty challenge, and the Wolf knows it. He snorts _again,_ his eyes dancing with mirth, and says nothing.

"Focus, kid," Kash reminds him, and Genki barely ducks out of the way of the man's sudden punch. He swears he can feel the fighter's knuckles skim his cheek, leaving behind a sting that makes him flinch and stumble back. He trips over his own feet and goes down with a yelp, sprawling across the grass and staring up at the clear sky with wide, dazed eyes.

He can hear soldiers laughing at him and bites his lip, his eyes prickling with the threat of oncoming tears. Kash stands over him, a foot braced on either side of Genki's chest, but the man's sharp eyes are fixed on the opposite side of the yard.

"Next laugh I hear volunteers to take his place," he calls, his grin savage and unkind. That shuts the hecklers up, and after staring them down for a few seconds longer, Kash looks down at him.

"Getting better," he says, his voice rich with approval. "Come on, quit lazin' around. Up ya get. Show me them fists and tell me what Gun said."

He offers his hand and Genki takes it, letting the fighter drag him to his feet with surprising strength. Kash is so lean, his muscles tight and sleek, that it's hard to imagine he'd be capable of hauling someone like Genki up with just one hand. He's far from overweight, but he's broader and carries more visible bulk than the fighter. Kash lifts him like he's a kitten though, looking like it costs him nothing.

"Don't call him that, please," he mumbles, rubbing his cheek and looking away. "That's not his name."

"Yeah," Kash agrees easily. "But until the furball _tells_ us his name, ain't much else I can call him, is there? Fists up, let's see 'em."

Sighing, Genki raises his fists obediently and shows Kash how he'd been curling his fingers; thumb tucked against his palm and the other four fingers curled around it protectively.

_"Goddess,"_ the man says, looking pained. "Are you _trying_ to break your fingers? That's not how you make a fist, Genki. How do you have _no_ experience?"

"Never needed any," Genki mutters defensively, curling his shoulders and looking away. "No one ever found the village, and we all knew each other. No one really bothered anyone. We never had any reasons to fight?"

"No squabbles at _all?"_ Kash sounds skeptical, but he looks curious, and he's working while he talks; correcting Genki's stance with guiding touches and showing how to hold his fists the proper way, with his thumb tucked safely on the 

outside.

"It's a small village." Staring intently at his fists and the way his arms are angled to guard and protect his chest and face, Genki does his best to memorize their placement. "There was always more than enough food and space. No one ever felt the need to steal; they wouldn't have gotten away with it anyway. There was no keeping secrets in a village that small."

Stepping back, Kash checks Genki's stance one last time, looking him over critically for any issues. Apparently satisfied, he smiles and nods -- and then he swings.

_Talking is one of the easiest ways to distract your foe,_ the Wolf offers once Genki's head stops spinning. He's flat on his back again; the side of his face hurts.

"That was an open palm." Kash offers his hand again, and once Genki is back on his feet, the man braces him until he stops swaying. "When someone punches at you like that, you can try to duck. You could sidestep, block with your forearm, or you can knock their arm aside and follow up with a punch of your own. For now, I'd recommend getting out of the way or blocking."

"I didn't even have time to _think,"_ Genki complains, letting Kash rub his cheek and check to make sure he isn't bleeding -- though the punch was more surprising than painful.

Kash tweaks his nose affectionately. "It's a matter of muscle memory, repetition, and time. You're never going to get it your first time, unless you have amazingly fast reflexes. Even then, it's typically a fluke. If I punch you again, what will you do?"

"Block?" Genki guesses uncertainly. The fighter chuckles and ruffles his hair.

"That wasn't a trick question, Genki, I promise. I should have asked what you would _prefer_ to try doing first."

"Blocking," he decides with more confidence, and Kash nods. He steps back and they square up again, their fists raised. Kash is watching him with a fierce expression. It's so unlike his usual grins and cheer that it makes Genki nervous. He shifts from foot to foot, his eyes flicking over every inch of the soldier in order to try and figure out what he's going to do first.

This time, he sees the punch coming. Kash slows it down drastically, giving him plenty of time to react, but Genki doesn't know what to _do._ He pivots and raises his arms a little higher, trying to catch the punch against the thickest part of his forearm. Kash's fist clips the outside of his arm instead, sliding to land against his shoulder with a light impact.

"That was a good effort," Kash praises, squeezing his bicep before stepping away. "You just turned a little too far into the block. Try again."

"Isn't this much less stressful than training with everyone else?" Remy muses. She's resting her feet on the second fence rung, her elbows propped on her thighs and her chin on her fists as she leans forward to watch them. "Not that you could," she adds, her grin widening. "My poor baby. You were so brave the other night; I'm so proud of you."

"For all the good it did," Genki mumbles, his shoulders slumping at the memory. Anxiety flickers in the base of his throat, a faintly nauseating feeling, and he swallows against it. Remembering it is still enough to terrify him, and while the soldiers have made it a point to not go near the Wolf's pen since that night, many of them have also made it a point to blatantly ignore Genki. None of them will train him, or eat near him, or really even speak to him. He's heard more mentions of _Wolf-fucker_ muttered under someone's breath than he's heard actual conversation.

"It's better for Kash to teach you anyway," Tok says, elbowing Remy before she says anything else. She catches the expression on Genki's face and softens, her teasing demeanor turning motherly and reassuring in an instant.

"You did what you thought was right, honey," she soothes. "You stood up for what you believe in. That means more than you realize right now."

Genki drops his stance to rub at his eyes, trying not to let them hear the way his breaths have started to hitch and stutter. Kash pulls him into a hug and rubs his back, letting Genki have his moment of weakness and never once judging him for it. Genki may not be good with people -- as he's proved remarkably well now -- but words and actions still hurt him. Deeply, in some cases.

"You're stronger and braver than they'll ever be," the fighter murmurs against the crown of his skull, his hands unnaturally warm when they rub up and down Genki's back.

"I very highly doubt that, considering they're all going to walk out that gate and fight terrible battles and I'll just be here, probably having a panic attack under the porch," Genki whispers disparagingly.

"There's more to strength than just physical prowess." Those hands come up to cup his cheeks and lift his face for Kash to see him. He wipes away Genki's tears and kisses his forehead, and Genki can't believe how much such a small thing can settle him now. He's lived for so long hardly ever touching anyone or being touched in return, aside from sporadic, awkward hugs. Now he _craves_ the contact his friends give him so easily -- forehead kisses and fingers in his hair; a palm on his nape or a friendly arm around his shoulder to keep him close. It's been a little over a week, and until it actually happened to _him,_ he never would have thought something as inconsequential as simple, affectionate contact could have so much impact on someone.

He never expected to like it this much.

"Look at what you've already done," Remy continues when Kash doesn't. "Look at _him."_ She gestures to the Wolf, who is healed and clean, his black fur gleaming in the afternoon light. There's a healthy shine to it, and his eyes are bright. He looks nothing like the creature that Genki first met, who dragged himself stiffly out of the tent and smelled like old blood and death.

_"You_ did that, Genki." Kash jostles him gently, grinning at him. His eyes are full of pride. "You pulled off master-level healing in two sessions, baby boy. Not any of them; _you_ did it. All on your own. Shit, you healed Gareth after he fell off the roof just two days ago, and that fucker deserved to suffer in pain for a little while, just to ruminate on the benefits of not being an egotistical _fuckwad."_

Choking, Genki smacks at Kash's chest. "Don't say things like that!" Just thinking of Gareth is enough to make him shiver, remembering the aggression and anger in the Western-born man. His attitude hasn't improved at all since the night they met, despite Genki keeping him from getting crushed beneath the Wolf's paws. Not even when Genki was called to help heal him, after a goad had the soldier climb onto the roof of the farmhouse without a ladder. He'd fallen trying to get back down, and he's lucky he didn't kill himself. All he did was break his leg in four places and dislocate his wrist. Healing him was easy, but the animosity the man feels toward Genki hasn't lessened at all.

If anything, it's gotten even worse.

A flurry of commotion by the main gate ends their training practice before they can start back up, and Genki feels Kash tense beside him when the wards flare with _danger._ It tastes like something burning on the back of his tongue, charred and unpleasant. Genki's immediate response is to pull back, fear a sour tang in his throat. Kash and the twins have the opposite reaction, striding toward the quickly-growing crowd to see what's going on.

_I suppose that's my cue,_ the Wolf muses, distaste and _anger_ thundering through his voice. Genki covers his ears like it will help, but the pressure still brings tears to his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

_I'm sure that sentry brings news of a battle, judging by the scents rising off his comrades now._ The creature stands and pads to the corner closest to the main gate, his ears half-flattened and his tail stiff.

"But you're only _just_ healed," Genki protests. "You can't go!"

That huge head turns enough for one dark eye to meet his frantic stare. _You truly are a pure-hearted soul, Genki,_ the Wolf said quietly. The way he shapes the words gives Genki the impression he's smiling, but his awe is short-lived when he catches sight of Kash and Tok striding back in their direction. Both men are carrying themselves differently than just a few minutes ago. They're brimming with magic, their faces closed-off and severe. Neither of them are looking at Genki, and he can't decide if that's a kindness or a sign of dismissal.

"Looks like vacation is over, Gun," Kash says, reaching up to cover one of the ward on the right side of the gate with a palm that glows red-orange. Tok follows suit and covers the ward on the other side, neither of them paying attention when Genki whimpers in distress.

The air seems to swell and shiver, a multicolored ripple streaking along the curve of the invisible barrier. At the same time that it drops, a similar multicolored collar manifests around the Wolf's thick neck, shimmering and visible now that the wards containing him have been disengaged. Genki has felt it multiple times now, but this is his first time actually _seeing_ the binding collar.

He's not all that surprised by how much he hates the sight of it. It must be so much worse for the Wolf who's been forced to wear it. His ears are flat against his skull, his teeth bared and his fur bristling all the way down the line of his back. He looks nothing like the quiet, surprisingly gentle creature Genki has spent the last week talking to and learning. The Wolf hasn't told him anything personal about himself or the pack he was taken from, but they've filled the surprisingly comfortable air between them with plenty of other topics.

"Kash," Genki whispers as soon as the man lets go of the fence. He grabs his friend's arm when he tries to turn away without answering, _forcing_ the fighter to look at him. "Kash, please tell me what's happening. Please."

He meets those shadowed golden eyes, ready to beg again until the man sighs and squeezes his shoulder. "There's a platoon Northwest of here, about half a day's travel," he replies quietly. "They're under attack and calling for reinforcements. The scout says there's only two or three Wolves at the moment, but it's likely more will show up. We have to go, Genki. Those are our people, too. They're good people."

Genki feels a sob swelling up in his chest, caught by the tight squeeze of his throat. He shakes his head, feeling so young and helpless, and Kash hugs him tight enough to hurt, pressing a kiss against his hair.

"We'll be back before you know it, baby boy," he promises, but it does nothing to soothe Genki, and the first tears leak free when Tok gestures to the Wolf. The creature leaps the fence gracefully and looks back to stare at Genki, his eyes unreadable and his ears folded. His tail is limp between his legs.

"Come on, Gun." Kash joins them and pats his side to get him moving. The three of them walk away, leaving Genki standing beside the useless, broken-down fence, unable to do anything but watch them leave.

The soldiers gather quickly, shouting orders back and forth. The air is heavy with the crackle of transport magic. It's a pale violet shimmer hanging over the men and women that are chosen to go; wrapping around them as well as the Wolf that towers over them all. They file out in pairs, the wards flaring each time, until the last three march through together and silence falls, sudden and deafening.

Genki doesn't move, staring at the gate and praying -- _begging_ \-- that they all suddenly reappear, laughing and joking and unharmed. He's drowning in the panic raging through him, unchecked and potent. There's no oxygen; his head throbs and his lungs scream for air, but there isn't any. No matter how hard Genki gasps, or how quickly he takes breaths, he can't fill them.

"This is why children don' belong in a fuckin' war zone."

Gareth stares down at him in disgust, and Genki isn't sure when he crumbled to the ground, but he's bent over his knees, sobbing and drooling onto his own breeches. A hand fists in his hair, cruel and _wrong,_ and forces his head up. He can't see the soldier through his tears; can barely hear him over the rush of blood through his ears and his broken, panicked crying. He hardly notices when the man crouches until their faces are almost touching, nothing but a few inches and the stench of unfamiliar breath filling the space between them.

"You cryin' for th' knot that jus' left ya, eh? Li'l Wolf-fucker? Or are ya fuckin' tha' whole group? Tha' 'ow ya got so much favor from them big dogs?"

Even if he wanted to reply, Genki can't. He's aware that he's hysterical in a distant, foggy sort of way, but he can't remember how to calm down. His skin is too hot, crushing his ribs and cutting off his circulation until he feels cold everywhere but his face. His tears burn his cheeks, flooding his mouth with salt and anguish and slipping down the back of his throat. He chokes, and Gareth makes a disgusted noise.

Pain explodes across the side of his face Kash tapped earlier, but this time it's a thousand times worse. His lip splits and his nose throbs, the world spinning past his glazed eyes with no way for Genki to tell which way he's going or where he is. He whines, tasting something coppery and warm that it takes him far too long to realize is blood.

"Th' fuck's wrong wit' you, ya snivelin' li'l-"

"I promise you, if you finish that sentence, you won't live long enough to regret it."

The shadow pinning him in place shifts, the sudden influx of light making him whimper and curl into himself to try and block it out. Hands touch him again, small and careful, and a gentle voice shushes him.

"Up you sit, little lamb, there we go. Sit up for Mama like a good boy and let me look at you. Alright, sugar?" Those same hands guide him, and Genki couldn't fight them even if he wanted to. He slumps against something hard, feeling it dig into his spine; flinches and cries harder when something warm and wet wipes across his mouth.

"I know, baby. I know. It'll be over soon, I promise. I've got somethin' nice for you to drink in a moment, but you gotta let me clean you up first. You poor baby, you're a _mess."_

Soothing yellow ribbons of light flutter across the backs of his eyelids, sinking into his skin before he can try to blink them away. Genki can _feel_ them, can feel how they warm the tips of his fingers and spread through his aching chest. He gasps, and a cool wisp of air makes it into his straining lungs.

"That's it, honey, that's it. You're doing so good for me. Let's have another one. Nice, deep breaths."

_I can't I can't I can't I can't_

"You can. I know you can. You're doing so well."

Genki whines, pressing into the fingers he can feel stroking through his hair. He feels like someone has forced gravel down his throat. It hurts to breathe, but he _tries,_ hiccuping and sobbing like he's a child being told by Grandmother that his parents aren't coming home.

The voice keeps coaxing him along, showering him with praise and loving words while magic fills him slowly. It worms through his chest, uncoiling the bands that are wrapped around his lungs until they inflate in a rush and his own magic, buried beneath the fear and panic, triggers out of reflex.

His palms warm, tendrils unfurling like vines across his throat and creeping up to his throbbing cheek. The pain eases, and his vision clears and focuses enough to recognize Mama Zula. She's kneeling between his shaking knees, her face heavy with a concern that doesn't match her sweet voice. When Genki presses weak, fumbling fingers against her cheek, she catches his hand and rubs over his knuckles.

"You're doing so well, baby," she praises. "You think you can drink something for me? I promise it will help you."

He can't remember how to find his words, or flex his muscles to make himself nod, but he tries his best. It must work, or she recognizes that he's trying his best, because she holds up a bottle filled with a familiar glowing yellow potion. He watches her work the cork out with her strong, gnarled fingers, and then she's leaning in to cup the back of his head.

"Nice and slow, baby," she cautions, tipping a little of the potion into his mouth at a time and waiting for him to swallow weakly before giving him another mouthful. It tastes like a recovery drink, and it has similar effects. As he climbs down from the panic and lands somewhere closer to _exhausted,_ he slumps sideways against one of Zula's tiny, narrow shoulders. She supports his weight easily, still murmuring encouragements that continue until every last drop is gone and Genki feels like he's floating. He lets himself be guided down until his head is laying on Zula's lap, her fingers combing through his hair again and tickling lightly across his scalp. It feels so good that he closes his eyes and drifts along on the currents of magic that cushion him, losing track of everything but immediate touch and Zula's low, crooning voice.

"Looks like Sev and I are gonna need to have a long conversation when he returns. Honestly, what was he thinkin', draggin' a lamb like you into his crazy quest for vengeance and not even makin' sure you've got safety nets in place?" Genki whines, and fingertips massage his forehead in a slow circle. "Hush, baby. Mama ain't mad at you, don't you worry. It's no one's fault but Sev's. You ain't done a single thing wrong, sugar. No, no. You've been doin' your best to adjust to all this, haven't you? You've been doin' so good. Mama's been keepin' her eye on you, baby. Sweetness like that ain't fit for a place like this. It'll make you bitter, and that just ain't right."

Tilting his head, Genki cracks open his eyes to peer blearily up at the cook. "Mama?" he rasps, his voice sluggish and jumbled. She taps his nose lightly and smiles.

"Yes, baby?"

He sniffles quietly, feeling fresh tears drip down on either side of his head and soak into his hair. "I don' wan' anyone to die, Mama. I don't want them to die."

"Oh, baby, you got too big a heart for this world." Zula bends over despite the awkward angle and presses a kiss to his forehead, right where Kash usually kisses. "I can't promise you they won't, sugar; I ain't gonna lie to you." She wipes his tears away, her fingers rubbing the swollen, sensitive skin beneath his eyes to soothe the ache his sobbing has caused. "I _can_ promise you that Mama Zula is gonna help ya keep them airheaded billy goats alive for as long as we can. You'n me, sugar. And maybe that Wolf of yours, if he's willin' ta lend a paw."

"Ain't my Wolf," Genki slurs, sleep rising to the surface of his mind and spreading like a slow, persistent mist.

Mama Zula chuckles and tucks a few strands of hair behind his ear.

"If you say so, sugar," she murmurs. "If you say so."

Genki curls closer to her warmth, a quiet _thank you_ slipping from his mouth before his lips relax and his features smooth out.

Thankfully, no shadows creep in to haunt his dreams. There's just a low, warm, sweet voice that ghosts along the edges of his mind, singing songs that sound familiar to him, but that he can't quite remember the words to.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYYYYYY LOOKY WHAT I GOT

Kash is sitting by his bed when Genki wakes up, rubbing a thumb back and forth across his bruised knuckles. There's a shallow cut across the fighter's cheek; bruises dotted along his collarbone in a sick parody of a necklace and a large bandage taped to his left side, following the curve of his ribs and disappearing behind his back. He seems distracted, his eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused as he stares down at his knuckles.

There's dried blood caked to his earlobe and flaking off the side of his throat when he rolls his head and sighs quietly.

Genki hits his head against the headboard in his haste to sit up, yelping in surprise more so than pain, even though his eyes are watering. "Kash," he gasps, reaching for the man with his hands already flaring green, his magic rushing to the surface and spilling over. The fighter grins and grips his wrist, hauling Genki off the bed and into his lap and sending them both tumbling to the floor when he leans back too far and the chair tips over.

"There you are," he breathes, catching Genki's face between his too-warm palms and turning his head this way and that to get a good look at him. "Shit, Genki, we didn't think ya'd _actually_ panic that bad, baby boy. _Goddess,_ ya gave us a helluva fright when we came back an' ya were out cold."

His words slip and slide with his emotions, his accent cutting and slurring them however it pleases as it thickens. Genki flushes sheepishly, his hands dragging across Kash's bare chest as he works; his magic sinking beneath the surface and mending whatever damage it finds. He guides and nudges it toward the injuries that are visible, but otherwise he lets it work unchecked, nothing more than a conduit for his Goddess-given ability to flow through.

"Fuck, that feels good," Kash groans, thunking his head back against the floorboards. His hands settle on Genki's waist naturally, offering support and keeping him steady while he works. He doesn't think anything of the way he's straddling the fighter's thighs, bent over Kash's prone form while he works, until the man chuckles quietly and squeezes his hips.

"Cozy, baby boy?" he teases, and Genki is _mortified_ when he realizes the implications behind their current positions. He scrambles back, his magic stuttering and fading away in his surprise. Thankfully there weren't more serious injuries in need of healing, but it definitely begs the question as to _why_ Kash is injured in the first place.

"Didn't you see the healers when you returned?" he asks, trying to will the embarrassed blush from his cheeks. He hugs his head to hide his face, appalled at his own forwardness -- however unintentional and innocent it was.

"I did." Kash laughs and sits up, ruffling his hair with an easy grin and twinkling eyes. "These are from somethin' else."

"From _what?"_ What in the Goddess' name did Kash _do_ after they returned? And if _he's_ here, then that means, "The others!" Genki squeezes Kash's hand before he can pull away. "Did everyone-- are they-- Kash, did anyone-"

"They're fine, kid," Kash soothes him, brushing the backs of his knuckles over Genki's cheek. "Ease down, and breathe. They're alright; everyone made it back. The Wolves were gone by the time we got there, so we stuck around to help 'em clean up some before turnin' back 'round and comin' home. Everyone's _fine._ What about _you,_ Genki?" The fighter grips his chin gently and tilts his face up again, leaning in and narrowing his eyes.

"M-me?" Genki forces himself not to pull away, but there's a sharpness in Kash's golden eyes that he isn't sure how he's supposed to take. He looks _angry_ and intense, like one of the big, feral cats Genki has likened him to a few times since first meeting him. "I-- I'm fine. Why w-wouldn't I be?"

"You stutter when yer tryin' ta hide somethin' or you're nervous."

Flinching, he cuts his eyes away, but Kash's warning rumble snaps his attention right back to the soldier. "Genki," he says quietly, and then pauses before letting out a heavy sigh. He coaxes Genki closer and kisses his forehead, smoothing his hair back and tucking a few strands behind his ears. "You had a panic attack. A really bad one. What do you remember?"

_Everything._ He can't say that though, he _can't._ He doesn't want to bother them with something like this, not when it's his fault in the first place. Gareth wouldn't have confronted him if Genki hadn't provoked him first. He yelled at _all_ of them; he's not expecting them to forgive his impudence so easily after that. It makes sense that they'd be angry with him. He doesn't know anything about how the platoon functions, or what the rules of this place are. He doesn't know _anything_ that isn't fishing or healing, and he's never been good at sitting back and watching something suffer for the amusement of others. How could he?

"Come out'a your head, Genki."

Flinching, he tries to offer Kash a reassuring smile, and it's clear from the fighter's face that it looks just as unconvincing as it feels. "I. Nothin'. I d-don't remember. I just p-panicked. I was afraid none of y-you would c-c-come back."

Kash frowns and stands, gripping Genki under his bicep and pulling him to his feet as well. He's barely standing when the man hauls him from his room, dragging him toward the stairs with his hand an unrelenting pressure around Genki's bicep, fingers digging into his skin just under the cuff of his sleeve. "Kash?" he says anxiously, trying to tug himself free and panicking when the fighter only grips him tighter on the way down the stairs. He marches them out the front door and off the porch; pulls him across the yard toward the Wolf's pen, where the twins are standing with their backs to the house, their heads tilted up. They're looking at the Wolf, and when Genki sees him, the air stutters in his lungs.

That giant head swings toward them, dark eyes blazing into him even from halfway across the yard. His fur is bristling all the way down to his raised tail, his paws hitting the ground hard enough to make the earth tremble when he stalks to the fence and braces himself. Genki sees the air ripple and realizes with a jolt of panic and fear that he's pushing against the barrier, his muscles rippling and straining beneath his twitching fur.

_Bring him to me,_ he snarls, and Genki has never heard his voice sound like this before. He sounds _violent,_ power and anger ripping through his thoughts until Genki feels like he'll crumble beneath the pressure. He whimpers, pained tears dripping down his cheeks. He doesn't understand what's happening. Has he done something to anger them? Are they going to yell at him for panicking after they left?

"Ease up, Gun," Kash snarls when the twins turn to meet them. Remy is the one to step forward, smacking Kash's arm away and gathering Genki close. He grabs onto her shirt, his fingers spasming and kneading anxiously at her sides as he stares up at her.

"I'm sorry," he gasps, burying her face against her collar and feeling one of her hands cup the back of his head. "I-I'm s-s-s-sorry. I didn't m-m-mean to, I s-s-s-s-s-s-swear."

"Shh, honey," she croons, rubbing his back. "No one is angry with you, Genki. Come on, little one, breathe for us. Follow me. Damn it, Kash, what did you _do?"_

The harsh words aren't directed at him, but her voice is too loud next to his ear. He flinches, and Remy coos softly, pressing soft kisses against his hair and his temple. She takes a deep breath, her chest rising against his, and he struggles to copy her.

_Genki._

Whining, he shakes his head frantically and hunches his shoulders, trying to hide in Remy's arms despite being a few inches taller than her.

_Genki,_ the Wolf whispers, his voice a delicate flutter across Genki's strained mind, remorse dripping like a summer rain that brings a soothing sensation. _I am sorry, cub. My anger was not directed at you. Rather, it was on your behalf. I dislike cruelty and injustice just much as you do, so to hear of it being brought against one as honorable and good as you… I lost my temper. I have no excuse._

"What are you talking about?" Genki whispers. "I j-jus' panicked. N-n-no one d-did anythin' t-t-to me."

_You smell like charred bark when you lie, Genki. Did you know that?_

"N-n-no." _I'm not lying, I'm not lying, it's fine--_

"We know what happened, Genki." Tok's voice is low and gentle, his hand warm against Genki's back, resting just below Remy's. "Mama Zula informed us this morning upon our return. You have done nothing wrong."

"Then stop _crowdin'_ him," Zula snaps, her voice cracking through the air and startling Genki so badly that his spine pops when he straightens up. He hears the impact of something against skin, and Kash's bark of pain.

"Shit, why the _knuckles-"_

"You want me to hit lower? I'm in a good spot for it."

"No, you crazy woman!"

Genki can't help but giggle at the exchange, which is probably what Zula was aiming for anyway, if the look on her face when he turns around is any indication. He's still within the circle of Remy's arms, his back against her chest now and Tok's hand a steady pressure against his sternum. "Hi, Mama Zula," he whispers sheepishly. The panic is still there, but it's waning, and he can recognize the pulse of her magic well enough now to know that it's her doing.

"Hello, baby. How was your rest?" She smiles at him, her irritation apparently forgotten. Beside her, Kash is rubbing his knuckles, which look a little red, a pensive frown on his face.

"It was good, Mama. Why didn't anyone heal Kash after they came back? He was still injured when I woke up."

"I told you, Genki," the fighter protests, and he yelps when Zula smacks the back of his hand with the spoon Genki hadn't noticed was tucked into the waistband of her apron.

"Kash _was_ healed when they returned," the woman tells Genki, holding up a hand to quell the questions she must be able to see already gathering on his tongue. "He was injured after they returned, and Lieutenant Sev determined that being made to heal unaided was a fitting punishment for all involved."

Even more confused by that explanation, Genki looks at Kash, who meets his gaze with an easy, unapologetic smile. "You should see the other guys, baby boy. I'm considered the best at hand to hand combat for a _reason."_

There's something bubbling in Genki's chest -- a realization that makes nausea churn and twist his stomach. The pieces are falling together, no matter how much he doesn't want to accept the picture taking shape in front of him. Gently pulling away from Remy, he turns to look up at the Wolf and meet his steady, smoldering eyes.

"He's allowed to be angry," he whispers, even if the words taste sour on his tongue. The Wolf's muzzle wrinkles, his lips lifting to show a hint of teeth. His rumble is almost subvocal.

_That does not give him the right to do what he did._

"He barely touched me," Genki protests, touching his lips even though he knows the wound has long since healed. His magic stirs, gathering in his fingertips, and it's easy to dispel without any injuries to focus it toward.

"You really think he would have stopped at a slap?" Remy asks gently, and Genki shies away from the question he doesn't really want to answer, because the truth is that he doesn't _know._ He doesn't know if Gareth would have stopped, or if he would have done something worse if Zula hadn't found them -- which she probably did because of the emotions that must have been pouring off Genki like sweat.

"I…" Swallowing, he sets his jaw and squares his shoulders, doing his best to look serious when he meets Kash's golden eyes again. "I didn't ask you to defend me like that," he says, and his words are firm even if his voice isn't. "I didn't… I don't… I don't want that. I never wanted that."

"You didn't ask me to," the fighter agrees, tilting his head forward in consideration. "It was my choice. When we came back and we didn't see you, we were all worried. After Mama Zula told us what had happened, I reacted. I didn't stop to consider how you would feel about it, and for that, I'm sorry. I'm not going to apologize for what I did though, baby boy, because you didn't deserve to be targeted like that. And from my understanding, he wasn't quiet about it. There were _witnesses,_ Genki. And not a single one of them stepped in to try and stop him. They just _watched,_ and I will not fuckin' stand for that shit."

When Genki opens his mouth, Kash shakes his head. _"No,_ Genki." His voice is forceful but his expression is fiercely protective. "Nothing about what he did is _okay._ You cannot give shit like that even a fraction of wiggle room or control, or they'll _destroy_ you."

"I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me!" Genki yells back, frightened about their reaction to him raising his voice but unsure how else to make them listen and _understand._ "You wanted revenge for what he did," he continues shakily, picking at his nailbeds until they bleed. He only stops when Zula takes his hands in hers and squeezes them. This time, he can't feel her magic, but he relaxes all the same. "I didn't ask you to do that. I don't _want_ that. If you lower yourself to that level, what's next? You… He _hurt_ you, Kash. You hurt him too, but he hurt _you,_ and that makes it my fault, because you did it for me."

The fighter shakes his head harder. "That's not-"

"Shush," Zula snaps. "Let him speak. _Listen_ to what he has to say, and learn from it."

Genki swallows, and it feels like there's a rock lodged behind his Adam's apple, keeping back all the things he wants to say. He forces the words past it, cutting his tongue along the way but determined to speak his thoughts. "What if it happens again? Will you stoop to his level a second time? A third? What if you kill him? What will happen to you, then? You hurt yourself by lashing out, but it's not just about _you._ It's all of us, too."

"So you want me to hold my tongue while they call you Wolf-fucker and _traitor?"_ Kash grits out. His hands are balled into fists, and Genki can see tiny forks of ember-colored lightning flicker across the backs of his knuckles.

"Yes," he says simply. "If you constantly fight my battles for me, either physical or otherwise, how can I learn to fight them myself? He _stabbed_ you, Kash. I felt that wound. I _healed_ that wound."

"Actually," Tok objects quietly, "that wasn't Gareth. Another soldier did that while Kash and Gareth were fighting." Genki turns his attention to the warder, wide-eyed, and Tok rubs his cheek, his fingers warm and glowing.

"He confronted Gareth, it's true, but Gareth started the fight. He's a newer recruit, and he hasn't been here very long, so he didn't know that Kash is the best at hand-to-hand combat around here. Several of Gareth's friends heard and saw the fight and tried to help him. Before we knew it, a third of the camp was trading blows on either side. Lieutenant Sev and Sergeant Pyrs broke it up pretty quickly and handed out the punishments they deemed appropriate for each individual's behavior."

"I'm on kitchen duty for a month," Kash elaborates, looking confusingly daunted at the idea. "Whatever Mama Zula here assigns me to, I will do without complaint. Some of the others ended up on kitchen duty as well, or helping the healers and the potion-makers collect ingredients. A few of the unlucky souls who've been here long enough to know better landed the graveyard patrol shifts for a few months."

"Gareth?" Genki asks softly, because he needs to know.

"Scouting missions. He's a half-decent tracker when he wants to be, from my understanding. Captain Maeus will whip him into shape, I'm sure. If not…" Kash shrugs. "If a Wolf eats him, it's his own fault for not paying attention."

_Do not compare us to our primal kin, human. You insult us by doing so._

Genki begins to translate, trying to think of a _kinder_ way to go about suggesting that Kash think before he speaks, but the man laughs before he can, mischievous golden eyes flicking toward the Wolf.

"Fair enough, Gun," he concedes. "My apologies, big guy."

"You can… hear him?" Confused, Genki looks up at the Wolf, searching his face in an effort to decipher the expression he sees there. It's so much harder to read the creature's face; he gives almost nothing away unless he deliberately wants to be understood.

_They are your friends,_ is the explanation he's given. _They care for you a great deal. Today, they proved their loyalty. In pack, loyalty and honor are revered above even battle prowess. Even above age. Pack will always protect and carry each other, and pack will remind their own when they behave unacceptably. It would seem that even amongst humans, there are some who exhibit such traits._

"Thank you," Genki whispers, reaching up to press his hand against the barrier. The wards flicker beneath his palm, reading his signature, before they settle and allow his hand to pass through. Without hesitation, the Wolf presses his warm, wet nose against Genki's palm. "What…" Licking his lips anxiously, he turns back to Kash without taking his hand away. Instead, his thumb strokes the soft, short furs of the Wolf's muzzle, feeling the difference between them and his bristly whiskers with interest. "What about the man who stabbed you?"

Kash's answering grin is cruel enough to send anxiety trickling down Genki's spine. "He got a fitting punishment," he says gleefully. "He gets to feed Gun for the next four months. If he lasts that long."

The Wolf huffs in annoyance, his breath hot and wet against Genki's fingers when he lifts his head out of reach. _I truly detest that slur of a name._

"Well," Tok reasons, "you never spoke to anyone before Genki arrived. You never let anyone near you. No one has ever seen you shift forms. It's hard to learn someone's name when there's no line of communication."

Passing his other hand through the barrier, Genki holds them both up imploringly, waiting until that broad, furry head presses between them and accepts his seeking fingers. He loves how thick the fur is at the base of the creature's ears; how sleek and soft it feels between his fingers. "Will you tell me your name?" he asks softly.

_Names hold power, cub,_ the Wolf rumbles just as quietly, and somehow, Genki just _knows_ that he's the only one being spoken to right now. The others are watching, relaxed and content to wait until they're finished with their conversation. They've gotten used to it, and Genki always relays important information if he thinks it's something relevant that needs to be shared. There's an underlying trust in _this,_ though -- something heavy and powerful that settles in his chest with the weight of _friendship._

"They do," he agrees, working his way up to the fur beneath those fathomless sea-colored eyes. He wonders if he'd be able to see the individual flecks and subtle changes in shade if he were even closer, but he doesn't ask. Now isn't the time to indulge his own personal curiosity.

_You can do a lot of damage, when you know someone's name._

Genki chews the inside of his lip. "You can," he murmurs, and he knows from the way those large ears flick forward, and from the minute shifting of the light in that penetrating stare, that he's passed a test he hadn't even been aware he was taking.

_Will you tell them?_ the Wolf asks, still holding onto his suspicion. Genki doesn't blame him for it -- he recognizes the kind of story such distrust speaks towards, and it makes his heart ache at the thought of anyone suffering so much. Rather than giving a verbal answer this time, he merely shakes his head.

Once again, he can tell from the subtle shift of the muscles that relax beneath his palms that he's done the right thing. He's answered correctly. The Wolf has probably listened to his heartbeat and breathed in his scent, and he's found no lie lingering in either of them.

When the massive, towering creature hunkers down to look him in the eyes, Genki waits patiently. His heart flutters wildly, but it's not because of nerves. This isn't fear he's feeling.

It's _excitement._

_I am Vindin,_ the Wolf -- _Vindin_ \-- rumbles, and Genki can _feel_ the power attached to his name. It's as ancient as the forests and as powerful as a hurricane, swirling around him like a magic he's never felt before in his life. It steals his breath and makes every hair on his body stand on end. It's wild and chaotic and _beautiful._

_Vindin,_ he mouths, and his grin stretches so wide his cheeks ache from it. Summoning as much of his own might as he can, he closes his eyes and _projects,_ hoping with everything he has that he's done it right.

_It's a pleasure to meet you, Vindin._

_No, Genki,_ Vindin replies, his tongue dragging up Genki's arm in a gesture that strikes him as affectionate.

_The pleasure is all mine._


End file.
